between the measure and its lingering chord
a pause leans into itself—
not absence, but a held breath
threading the room with quiet weight.
chairs remember their occupants,
dust rehearses its slow descent,
and the air waits,
as if something might begin again.
… and the night forgets its name
the silence gathers in the rafters,
an aftersound still trembling in the beams
.
-
Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 10th, 2025 04:00
- Comment from author about the poem: This particular one may not have gotten across as intended but the readings may be skewed being the season… perhaps it he posting date should’ve been reconsidered… we’ll see how we go…
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1
Offline)
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