Unfinished

 


(Originally written 29 October 1993)

 

Its nights like these

When the evening whispers

A soft lullaby

Very few ever get to hear

Or appreciate

 

Into the nothingness

Drifts my mind

My thoughts bear

The sweetness of your smile

The gentleness of your voice

 

And this same emptiness

My arms embrace

Pretending

That the cold evening breeze

Bears semblance

Of your warm, delicate body

I once held

That one sleepless

September night

 

And though it hurts

What choice have I

But to believe

That for one brief moment

You were mine


This poem is a thought for you

Although there remains

Much to be said

It is best to leave this,

Like its title,

Unfinished.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Pop-out Lighter

The Panasonic Lumix LX3: a 2023 Review

The Pillow