I can't say that you're gone.
Photo: Elizabeth Barr
Air hangs heavy outside my window.
patches of sun migrate along my bedspread.
I can't say that you're gone.
You were never really here...
I breathe deep but the heavy hanging air draws thin and cool.
I can barely believe the state of things, much less handle them on any functional level...
I sweep the sheet around my shoulder and roll away from it.
Air hangs heavy outside my window.
patches of sun migrate along my bedspread.
I can't say that you're gone.
You were never really here...
I breathe deep but the heavy hanging air draws thin and cool.
I can barely believe the state of things, much less handle them on any functional level...
I sweep the sheet around my shoulder and roll away from it.
The gardner mows his buzzing grass cutting machine past my window.
I close my eyes and pretend I'm asleep...
I would kill for a good night's sleep.
At the moment not much else comes to mind that's worth killing for...
My cell phone buzzes and I read your text.
It says exactly what I expected it to say.
I can't say that you're gone.
You were never really here...
REACTIONSAscending | Descending
Friday, 12 December 2008
I appreciated this very, very much.
To say much more than that would be to take licenses I don't hold and to diminish your work, which I'd never wish to do.
I hope you'll let us read more of your work. I lok forward to seeing what you're up to.
best wishes
GNWilliams
To say much more than that would be to take licenses I don't hold and to diminish your work, which I'd never wish to do.
I hope you'll let us read more of your work. I lok forward to seeing what you're up to.
best wishes
GNWilliams
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