(for Daleen)
When her face is everywhere
and I cannot get her out of my head
still less out of my heart
and I lie alone in my bed
first on my back and then on my side
and the sleep does escape me
where we are apart from each other
by another misunderstanding
and her children that do come between us
and I feel worse than being dead,
hear the sound of the roof cooling down,
a dove that does coo and another bird,
the dogs of the neighbours that whine
that does howl until deep into the night
does keep me awake,
eventually the utter tiredness does take over
and I do become a part of the darkness,
do drift away to another world
where everything is fair, great and good
and in reality
I will wake-up after a few hours
go shower, shave and dress,
will read the early morning newspaper,
and it will be just another day
that I do spend without her.
© Gert Strydom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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