C. Michael Miller


We wear our emotions all over our bodies.
Sometimes it’s a poor fit... revealing too much.
She could see the fear in me. She was leaving us.

“I’ll be back, ” she purred assuringly.
“Remember the sound of my voice in you heart...
each beat will be a soft remembrance from me.'

It’s true, I was lost... lost in her broken promise...
starving on fading memories.

Well, I survived her promise... broken my fast.
It’s just that, you know, my heart still whispers
to me from time to time...

Poem Submitted: Wednesday, November 9, 2005
Poem Edited: Thursday, December 22, 2005

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Comments about Fading by C. Michael Miller

  • Charles Chaim Wax (11/9/2005 7:36:00 AM)

    a lovely poem
    showing even a sad whisper
    filtered through memory
    can nourish creativity

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