Recess
I don't remember a time beforeor even a time after, just the
present, forever a myriad
of kaleidoscopic scenes that
flit, flailing in the wind.
The breeze that lifted curls
and sent them whirling into
stung cheeks and the taste of salt
so tangy on our lips as gritty sand
gathered in the corners of eyes.
A hard red ball flung so far
as leaping through waves
we watched surfers and dogs
braving the elements of nature
as we escaped sentences.
My hands were so cold,
I dug them deeper into pockets
as once you had held them
giving warmth where now
the slab of coldness hit and
shafted in the pit of bellies.
All is and was and cannot be,
the circling gulls and the
shouts of children filling
the awful space between us.
A driftwood fire behind a
shelter of rocks, its smoky
flames just a spiral of the
despair that worms inside.
Tomorrow will not come
and I draw not of yesterday,
this is now, the only now I know
filed in the recess of my mind.
Poetry by Elle
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Written on 2008-02-01 at 11:32
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