The Memory Of Your Face

no one else could hear
the words he said to raise the dead

your name
ringing in my own ear
for a while

I learnt the sound
of my own voice

a familiar hum, a familiar word
and there are times
when that is all a man needs

And, darling, sometimes a man has to be certain
of the earth beneath him
should it vanish
if he looked down at his feet

I looked
at your photograph
and wept

because I saw

once, because I needed to see
at all

and then one last time, because I may
never see or
weep again

Poetry by Praveen Bhusal
Read 136 times
Written on 2018-03-22 at 18:41

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Ashe The PoetBay support member heart!
This is so passionate and it says so much about the state of the person. To hear the name, to say it, to look at a photograph, it's so much and sometimes it's enough to quiet the heart. Beautiful!