Amy Carr

Rookie (October 22,1975 / Washington, DC)

Love-Shaped Hole - Poem by Amy Carr

The apartment door closes – creak and thud.

A key turns in the lock, drowning a whimper
I didn’t know I was making.

(Please don’t go!)

Footsteps recede – more creaks, more thuds –
signaling the birth of a prison.

I am left to wait for his return
and stare at the love-shaped hole left in his wake.

(Okay, I’m a big girl – I can do this.)

I turn to face the rest of the room to find
six feline eyes stare at me,
bewildered and wondering why they aren’t enough.

(Don’t worry, dears, I still love you.)

Couch. Coffee. Morning news.
Look at the clock.
Look at the hole.

I pace the room, and stare at the clock,
time dragging like undertow in a storm.

Look at the feline eyes.

(Maybe I should read? That might distract me.)

Pace a few times more. Watch more news.
Reach out with my mind as though
I could take his hand
and drag him back just by willing it to happen.

(What am I doing? This is ridiculous!
A grown woman pining over the man
she has already won! Get a hold of yourself!)

Pace. Clock. Coffee. Cats.
Try not to stare at the space where he should be.
Busy myself with dishes and making the bed.
Another cup of coffee.

And to think it isn’t even lunchtime…


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, May 9, 2006



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