The Last Glass
It was agreed;
one last drink at Peggotty's.
There, locked in silence,
she placed the ring upon the table
and with it fell just
three years of forever.
Promise ended.
The final goodbye
tumbled from her lips
and nothing could prepare me,
for her loveless voice,
that last time.
How skilfully she vanished,
leaving small reminders;
her perfume on my jackets,
a hair band in a pocket.
And there, upon the table,
the ring,
the glass,
love's final grasp,
all now standing empty.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It is a great release to write poetry about events that mark stages in your life. It all adds a new perspective and records important moments that would otherwise have been lost. Thanks for your comments on Bluebells, Patrick.