Posted in Art, Poetry

Did you come?


Flicker 4/20/2020

Can anyone hear the lark sing
I wonder. The rain knows
the words that twirl
to form the song
inside this vacant heart. You
removed all the furniture

placed into another room
wallpapered with old paintings. Never
knowing which was your color
i painted the reds of maple blooms
spring leaves only a few days old

they held no shape for us to know
how these days would go. And
now they bleed into years
of birthdays spent walled between plexiglass.
Yesterday’s reflection lied

as eyes peered to watch a head linger
a long pause …
the window hurts from all the noise
it rattles from my fist
poised to strike against me.

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