disregard the dirt
the windows, clouded
draped with cobwebbed curtains
I have lived here
and hear the echoes of your laughter
silver cords
bind my heart's bones
to each object
resonant in the afternoon sun
playing the melody of memories
as from each something
in that room
a note vibrates
I had hair then
and skin-soft hands
and we were afloat
in the womb of the moment
and still are here
a fading harmonic
despite the cobwebs
clouded windows
and the dust
7th May, 2019
No comments:
Post a Comment