Archive 12/17/10 - (1)

 

   

Missing Linda

                                                                  

Being away from somebody you love

Is such a bad place to be;

Its location is so cold, so lonely, so dispiriting.

 

And you never know when, coming or going,

You'll meet your own estranged shadow

Or see your ghost in a fun-house mirror.

 

Most disorienting is how time tells itself

Not in second-to-second crescendos

But in pausations, spaces, endless silences,

 

Causing you to grow old, overnight,

Believe that where you are is nowhere —

A hopelessness, a hole in your soul —

 

Until all of a happy sudden, you recognize,

In the gaze dancing into your eyes,

Your love, back from such a long ago.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                               

12/17/10 - (1)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
       

 

 

 
   
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