Even as pussy willows
bud, his glasses are
still shrouded in melting
sleet. He looked
everywhere, but could not
find them. Nor could I,
until months after
he left, and the earth
was laid bare once
again. I spotted them
dangling on a limb.
I am going to leave
them right there.
http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York.
My goal is to create and share poetry with others
who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve
in you, and feel your sparks as well.
He will return .. for a loving reunion I hope. I can imagine you leading him to that budding tree … sigh.
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Ah, ever the romantic.
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Love this and that ending Sara! Wonderful!
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Thanks, Carrie!
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This hits right in the emotions. Lovely and wistful.
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Thanks so much, wyndolynne!
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“his glasses are
still shrouded in melting”
I love that line break so much.
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Thanks, gypsy!
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Makes me wonder… why the decision to keep them there?
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You would have to ask her.
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I like this a lot!
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Thanks, Misk!
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I love the thought that the glasses hang there, exactly where placed by his hand.
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Thanks, Bev. That was the thought I had.
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“I am going to leave
them right there.” – perfect.
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Thanks, q!
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i like that, even though the poem is only a mere moment, it has a past and a future, it has a lastingness… very well done!
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Thanks, Phillip!
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There may be some comfort in them at some point in time. The pain feels fresh right now. Those reminders can be constant at first…
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True. I guess there are many variations on this poem’s meaning.
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