Was I ever good for you? Break the leaf off of the branch.
Maybe you should have been something I was better at.
Sitting at a park bench, bloodshot eyes
Staring at the wind. Feeling the words,
Speaking the touch. The felt is speech.
Where are you now? Thinking about something? Someone?
Alone no doubt, the one forever mourned the loss.
I mourn for you. Up and down your chest goes.
Hollow and cold, forever the ice grows.
I mourn for you. Dark and cold I grow.
I mourn for me, love lost forever’s soul.
Like, day, you, me.
Love you forever will
Shall
Never
Be.
Again, love the connection to nature.
ReplyDeleteAnd the twisty imagery is good, too. Like how you "stare" at the wind, which you can't do unless you're in a poem (:D), and "feel" words, and my favorite line, "Speaking the touch. The felt is speech." I dunno if that was your idea or what you were thinking or trying to say, but this line to me is, like, the key. This mourning that exists in the poem is inside the person, I feel, because you're writing about someone thinking and missing/grieving someone but not telling them to their face, and so to me that highlights it. Speech or what you say/think isn't always what you say outloud, it's what you feel for or because of something.
Thoughtfully,
Alma