For Elle, because I suspect that she stares across the bay.
Anchored ships, which must
Have names, though I am
Ignorant of them. I stare down
At my empty glass. Something's
Wrong; I'll grant you that, and
Someone's missing, I suppose.
My dinner burns. My bed's
Unmade. The ships will leave.
They'll be replaced, unlike the
One who left today, and I'll
Refill my empty glass, and
Wriggle by my cloudy window,
Staring out across the bay
Because there's something
Wrong.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 117 times
Written on 2014-03-21 at 00:14
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Afterward
I stare out, across the bay, atAnchored ships, which must
Have names, though I am
Ignorant of them. I stare down
At my empty glass. Something's
Wrong; I'll grant you that, and
Someone's missing, I suppose.
My dinner burns. My bed's
Unmade. The ships will leave.
They'll be replaced, unlike the
One who left today, and I'll
Refill my empty glass, and
Wriggle by my cloudy window,
Staring out across the bay
Because there's something
Wrong.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 117 times
Written on 2014-03-21 at 00:14
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text| Texts |
 by Lawrence Beck Latest textsIllFor Isabelle Unsightly Not the Man He Was The Minutes Crawl Past |
Increase font
Decrease