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Open Poetry #46

Their Last Night

Tomer
Senior Member

since 2002-06-28

Posts 1168
Michigan

0 posted 2010-01-02 01:18 AM

And she fell to her knees
The wind watching her eyes
Below the widths of her shoulder

Like the trains that churned
A couple miles from her
House on top the townÕs hill.

Her scarf lightly tagged her scent,
As she watched his ashes
Spread across the sea,
Fall below the perilous tomb
Of another place

A place she couldnÕt clench her lips against his softened mouth
Run her fingers through his hair
Like a boys feet running through the summer field
Until his toes became embedded to the top of their tips

So much so, her hands became buried
Underneath her jacket, along the seams of her pants
Where the wrinkles of her hands stayed beside her hips,
No longer wrapped around the broad strokes of his shoulders,
But rather, her sonÕs wavy hair,
As his eyes gently mirrored his late fathers stare.

N|D|N|C|Lost-Poet
Member

since 2009-07-30

Posts 360
New Orleans

1 posted 2010-01-06 02:44 PM

Beautifully captured.

JamesMichael
Member Empyrean

since 1999-11-16

Posts 33336
Kapolei, Hawaii, USA

2 posted 2010-01-06 11:11 PM

Enjoyed...James

Alison

Member Rara Avis

since 2008-01-27

Posts 9318
Lumpy oatmeal makes me crazy!

3 posted 2010-01-12 11:43 PM

Haunting and beautiful.

A

OwlSA
Member Rara Avis

since 2005-11-07

Posts 9347
Durban, South Africa

4 posted 2010-04-07 04:06 PM

Anguish graced by a compassionate pen.

Tonight I have found a casket of many treasures.

Owl

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