 |
But found only a cold stone That matched your blank stare I hear your teardrops falling As you hide your eyes Where once the light of your smile Put to shame the moon Phone cord stretched to the bathroom Yes, a wrong number Reading softly the short card Panicked, you saw me Deafened by crashing silence- Will dawn ever come? I see his van as I go- Coward just like me. But I know when I go back You're gone or I leave. Sleeping just on a blanket Your scented sheets gone What in the hell do you want? Breathe, then you hang up Are we worth another chance? I rip it to shreds I smell you in the smeared words- No place to stay, hmmmmm? You can sell the ring- I have no use for it now- Did he take that too? That would require a feeling And I am fresh out Just don't leave a space for me Your tears are for you Dark, only my breath Disturbs me, drives sleep away- Will dawn ever come? I'll drive you to your sister's- No, my heart is stone That best no longer is me- As you are not mine Half asleep, I hear your sobs . Will dawn ever come? On your side, the empty side Fading and they're gone Perhaps your tears have all dried- When will I find mine? Made an hour from my home Takes the place of tears
Author's Note:
A series of 22 haikus, each of which could stand on its own,
but combined, they tell the story of a dissolving relationship.
© copyright 2009 -will dixon- Will Dixon is a tenth generation Tennessean, but has since his college days lived in Mississippi, Germany, Texas, Florida, Australia, Tennessee again, and then back to Florida where he now lives in Rockledge, a small city a few miles inland from the Space Coast. Each place was the same and different as were its people - an education in itself if one were not foolish enough to ignore it, and he has tried his best not to ignore the people or the places. Now the voices come back either as characters or inspirations. The voice of an opal miner in the Outback might come back as the voice of an old sailor. Will is left-handed, dyslexic, an Aquarian, and has been told by numerous doctors that he has neurological issues; so he claims he is probably wired differently and looks at things from different angles than most folks. All well for writing, sometimes good for life issues, but can play hell when he is trying to understand the symbols used for international road signs! Send a message by using the Word Catalyst feedback form. |
||||
|
|
||||
  |