To my ex-wife
It was a long and loathsome day.
You and I had been fighting.
I was so sure the sight of blood
would have moved to soften you.
But you barely noticed.
I had to bemoan the pain
for you to ask 'what happened? '
'Cut my finger in the kitchen', I said
hoping, you would lead me to water,
And wash out the bad blood between us...
But rummaging the bags of your eyes
for some fonder time to recall,
I reclaimed an empty palm.
Then, with cradled arms and sucked thumb,
watched you whisk away...
unraveling, as a butterfly stitch,
You disappeared downstairs
even before the bleeding stopped
Clutching my self tighter then,
I knew it was our love that ebbed away...
Copyright ©2006 John Thomas T
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem