In the distance I could see your face.
That marbled look of cold years and hard work
made me think back to the time you shared
a cracked sliver of your life with me.
How the dreadful passing of time runs its course
at its own speed. The brakes slammed
only equals the amount of time between the breath you take
and the whisper I hear.
On the ground I could see the remnant of my tears,
pooling in the indentions left from your feet,
and I could mark the number of shoe prints in the mud
until they disappeared in your cold stone stare.
In the moment taken for a merry go round to come full circle,
I could see your face, warm and serene against the pillow,
your hands folded neatly upon your chest,
just a body returned to the mud your shoes used to steal.
painful. . . . heart-rending. . . . a feeling of so close and yet so very far. looks like intimacy-- feels like the acquaintenceship of strangers. has the quality of a wound with healing power. jd
Posted by: jdw | Sep 16, 2006 at 04:01 PM