if i could, this is what i would tell you
how the shutters cut light into slices
pale blades on the ceiling and walls
how it cuts off your voice in my dream
how the shutters cut light into slices
how i wake in a cushion of fog
how it cuts off your voice in my dream
how it insulates me from your absence
how i wake in a cushion of fog
empty of you and all others
how it insulates me from your absence
empty of you and all others
empty of you and all others
i hold myself in my arms
darkness takes shelter in corners
pale blades on the ceiling and walls
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I made a new poetry video and would appreciate your feedback. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j1UFZsefwSI This is “Journey’s End,” a poem describing the “out of body” experience my late maternal grandfather recounted after having open-heart surgery in the 1990s. He described it as very real — more vivid than a dream — and I wrote this poem to record his experience.
Posted by: Randal A. Burd, Jr. | 25 February 2014 at 10:47 PM
a cushion of fog
envelops my emptiness
hides my lonely tears
Posted by: William Charlebois | 28 February 2014 at 09:14 AM
Wonderful pantoum, Sharon! I attempted one for a writing class in college, and it is definitely a tricky feat!
Posted by: cyranoscrap | 20 March 2014 at 03:37 PM
This piece really resonated with me. Great write.
Posted by: DycheDesigns | 28 March 2014 at 04:21 PM