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The Empty Bed

Rating: 5.0

Reaching in the slow morning air
Extending wanting fingertips to that place
The place where you now should be
It is now cold and empty, barren of form

Where did you go in the lonely night?
What beating wings carried you from your rest?
What sound, what music, what flute took you from me?
The silent sounds of loneliness rips into night’s fragile curtain

Still darkness is stirred by your creamy green eyes
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Vidyadhar Durgekar 12 March 2008

I liked it.Deep emotions....good poem

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