He wanders
among her clothes
drifts through the walk in
wardrobe
remembering her
remembering her
perfume
her clothes now
the ghosts
of who she’d been.
Someone’s crying.
He can hear someone
crying
doesn’t realise
...it’s him.
*******
SHE KISSES HIM
She kisses him.
Tells him: “Shush...love...shush! ”
Through his tears
he sees her
his dead wife
smile...disappear.
*******
PAPER KISS
You walk
through my written words
that I strew
before you
faced with
the blankness
of the next day
of the next page
I create the next word
like a stepping stone
from sentence
to sentence
keeping you alive
as I write
I take your hand
and guide you through
this forest of words
(don’t be afraid)
the sound of your footsteps
the itchy scratch of my pen
I write you alive again
make you turn
& kiss me
again...again
even if it’s only
a paper kiss
a paper kiss
the paper cut of memory.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What a lovely sad poem...and how it reminds me that a smell, a sound, a song, all of those things can take us instantly back to pain...or love! !