Husk

It's not anything now, a flower pressed in a book,
An occurrence, barely remembered, drained
Of life.  I loved her, and why?  A ridiculous
Question.  Reason may lead one to enter into
Alliances, partnerships, cabals, and so forth,
But love isn't reasoned.  It simply arrives.  She
Was strange.  She was just what I wanted just
Then, and I think that she wasn't aware that
She drew me, like some piece of driftwood
Would find itself sucked in, circling helplessly
Into her eddy.  Closer and closer I came.  Then,
She left!  I was desperate to learn where she'd
Gone, and to join her.  I did.  I walked to her dumpy
Apartment, climbed up the fire stairs, knocked on
Her door, and proved by so doing that I really
Loved her, if she hadn't known, and it wasn't
Too long before I didn't leave.  We were perfect
Together, impoverished, bohemian.  Then,
A day came when we suddenly weren't.
She told me to leave.  I moved out and I cried,
But all that remains is a husk of a memory,
Which doesn't move me at all.





Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 39 times
Written on 2022-04-19 at 22:11

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D G Moody
I can only be the cherry on top of Allen's insightful comments. But if the cherry could talk, it would say....Bravo Lawrence!
2022-04-20


Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
Passion spent, or love rejected, both have a habit of extinguishing those emotions we remember. Your poem questions and explores this. Your were able to follow when she left, and this sparked and peaked your passion... had she disappeared and you weren't able to find her, there would have been no completion and then those remembered emotions would linger until death (I feel). Having said all that, did I say I loved the poem? I did. Very much. :)
2022-04-20



at least, you had the courage to love like this
2022-04-20