Now that you are gone, I wipe
mango juice from my table,
fold up the crinkled stories
Three potatoes on the windowsill
begin to send out roots
from their sleeping eyes
I dream that I begin to travel
but the moon stops me, flicking
its bright coins against my mirror
Poems litter the path
where we walked, and all my clothes
14 comments:
hi alaine, a beautiful image!!! what a view!! the words are rich and full. "ripe" as one of my readers suggested. have a lovely day. steven
So much emotion to this poem..Poems litter the path...indeed. And the photo, after, or before?
Alaine: Thanks for sharing the lovely poem. It melds so well with the image of the empty table and the beautiful view that has no one looking at it.
Hi Steven, fun to find a 'new' poet. Ruth's written quite a few books also.
Hi Lyn, 'and all my clothes are stained with your laughter' - love that. I don't think the table's messy enough for 'after' is it!
Hi Bonnie, all alone with a sense of great loss...
That is an amazing poem. The last line is brilliant.
Willow, I love that line and, might I say, rather than getting lost in the comments on your post, I love what you've composed in your Theme Thursday! Brilliant as well!
Hi Alaine
is the new header photo your driveway in blossom?
Happy day
Lovely view and poem! I'll have to check her out.
Hi Alaine,
It is a beautiful poem. Not many people would choose such a romantic description as
"Three potatoes on the windowsill
begin to send out roots
from their sleeping eyes"
for such a mundane matter!
Hi Delwyn, yes it is but looks entirely different 3 weeks later with new, green leaves.
Hello Susan, click on her name for the link; I like that Goodreads site.
Hi Derrick, haha, has me thinking that maybe she's resigned to the fact that the person isn't coming back? Oh well....
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