As you read this poem
You, yes, you
Whose eyes and smile I love
Whose smile and words I love
Whose words and depth I love
Know I am not working my imagination
To build a scene: I hear
The endless traffic washing down the roads
The coughing of a neighbour
Like a machine starting
I see my pen moving ferociously across the page
As a newborn infant’s mouth violent with hunger
I try to notice and memorise every minutiae
The way the dust dourly lingers
How many seconds before the minute moved
The actual shade of colour of my emotions
The precise number of places in my head
When I realise the boundary between
Animosity and affection is unclear
When to be a fugitive from the
Jail of destiny is intellectually absurd
A Tribute to a Beloved Father
So clear, meaningful, and compelling…
Wonderful work, as always, Vera!
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Thanks, Bill. This took a while — wow, almost a week since my last post — but sometimes it’s just what one has to do.
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Yes… I agree. I must say that I’ve missed the posts. So glad to see your work again!
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I love it when I read your poems and just find myself smiling 🙂
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Ooh, that’s lovely. Thank you so much x
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LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS, Vera!!! Like a joyous train on tracks of light….I could feel this one. Thanks for ending my day so sweetly! Sending Hugs Your way! 🤗💖☀️
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You always delight me, Katy. 🙂
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“You’re talkin’ ’bout Yourself, now!!!” 😄❤️☀️
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