What Is Left? Poem by Tom Billsborough
What Is Left?
Four white walls alone remain
In this bare room.
For what is left when you are gone?
Your last refrain,
The rainbow of your sweet soprano
spun into a ball
And made to disappear by some magician's
sleight of hand.
So suddenly, that when I turned you were not there
And would not reappear.
I did not understand
That death is truly white,
The final unity with the loss of colour.
Four white walls alone remain,
Like sheeted ghosts they lean
And slowly fade away.
Thank you, Robert. It was inspired by a poem by Wallace Stevens, the great American poet.
Tom, this poignant write comes out of the darkness that descends. Beautifully crafted.10 Robert
Tom, this poignant write comes out of the darknes that descends. Beautifully crafted.10 Robert
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 6:39:34 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Tom, you absolutely broke my heart with this. You are a gifted writer, capable of serious and humorous with no loss of skill. When you reach out to touch your readers' hearts, you do so unerringly and poignantly. A thousand million 10's for breaking my heart, my friend