Menu
Sunday, May 30, 2010

Driving Back Home

Yesterday I found a cuddle
that you had given me some nights before.
It was hidden in a jumper
that I had lazily tossed into the corner
that night as I had climbed wearily into bed.
Today it is not my body that is weary
but my soul.
And so this surprise find of your cuddle brings
a quiet and gentle rest.
I find too that there is
some scent of you
some sense of you on the breeze that brushes past me,
and rummaging in a drawer I find
that the feel of your head on my shoulder
is still on the collar of a shirt.
I turn to catch a glimpse of your laughter
skipping round the sitting room, the light of your smile
upon the chair by the door.
And I pull, all soft and wobbly, a giggle from my pocket.
And now if I listen carefully, quietly, gently
I can hear the words of your voice
like your touch on my hand.
Then, now, I remember that
the moments that pass between us
do not fade away,
but are always waiting to reach out from the stillness
and plant themselves upon the page.
charlie mcgarrity
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
COMMENTS

Delivering Poems Around The World

Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...

1/20/2021 5:26:36 AM # 1.0.0.407