Remains

Some things remain with me: the crash
Of waves upon the shore, the almost
Antiseptic smell of air above the
Timberline, your blank expression
When you left, and tears I didn't
Think I'd cry, and, now, though all
Is old and dull, and I am sick of
Everything, a husk of what I was
So many years before I learned your
Name, I do recall the sudden jolt
I felt when I first met your eyes,
And I remember thinking you
Would never be, and ever be,
The one with whom I was in love.
You're gone, and I, so nearly wholly
Numb, am sorry I did fall in love.
Your face, your voice, remain with me,
Like waves which bash me into
Sand, like antiseptic, insufficient
Air.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 25 times
Written on 2012-04-14 at 21:37

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