I didn't quite remember
the last day he
came to me and called
A slight silent goodbye.
However,
I remembered I looked back
at the end of the road:
The bright splashes of sun
through the netted olive sheets;
A coo of a late bird
behind the brown-green play of morning veils,
like a teenage dream;
The wind gusted from the dust-blowing cars
past me.
The sky witnessed a bright smile on either side,
And a gentle wave at me-
a promise of meeting yet again.
Honking buses now roll on,
as the road runs crazily crowded.
I've forgotten the smell of the known corridor.
The roses weep upon the morning light.
But I kept his handwritten study notes,
safely inside my book-
The curtains swoosh,
as I realize nine years have passed by.
The cars still run on this road,
Blowing dust, messing my hair.
Some get in, some get off,
Some run, while some slip away.
Goodbye, goodbye!
Into the heart's crushing silence.
The first cry of nostalgia
Down the same road washed by the same sunshine.
Where the birds flap into the longing green
Out of the dark tunnel.
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A/N: I'm literally sobbing now, my heart's wretched a bit, and I well know, so is yours. Why not cast a happy vote to change our mood? I'm sure that will work! :)
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the slow art of breathing bitter
Poetryslow dancing love and pain in the midnight chorus of liquor-washed autumn green ... || a constellation of destructive poetry ||
