Morney Wilson

Rookie (3rd April 1969 / Edinburgh)

Gone - Poem by Morney Wilson

Last night I fell asleep with
one hand touching her pink and purple
shredded blanket and the other
resting on the telephone.

I would say like being a child again.
Little securities making
the world go soft -
but I was never that child.

Sometimes it is just as simple
as saying: yes, there are times
when I hurt so much -
physically, mentally, both -

that all it takes is the feel
of her blanket to bring back
a slight scent, a slight pressure
(she could be lying against me)

and the feel of the telephone
recalling a kind of connection
to you that almost makes
you there if I shut my eyes.

Sometimes these things
can lull me to sleep.

© Morney Wilson

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, June 14, 2007

Poem Edited: Friday, March 11, 2011


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