I’m so sorry I couldn’t
spell out every lock of black hair
couldn’t make the words dance on the wind.
the scent of melons is washed away by the river, and
all I can smell is spicy apple cider from lunchtime--
you never left any footsteps on the banks.
Even your orange scarf, the one with white dots, is
missing from its usual spot
where are you?
where are you?
where are you?
I’m stumbling
and my hands are grasping for nothing
and I feel like I’m choking--
at the marina, all I can see is lavender
fog and the silhouetted hull of a sunken ghost ship
(Poetry Friday Roundup here.)
7 comments:
I think this is your best yet.
The first two lines are so captivating and earnest.
Wow! That was great. I wish I could write as good as you do. It's your best yet!
Hooray for poetry! I love this. This was really great. I love reading poeple's great works. You're talented. :)
Beautiful.
This is brilliant.
You're gonna publish a poetry book too, right? Please?
Thank you, everyone!
Erin- maybe! Or we should all publish a collection together.
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