When love is not really love...


Summer Snow...

Did he move me today?
Even in some small inadequate way
in this his dirty cold house –
as I sit watching raindrops beating against the wall
where the drainpipe should be.
They bounce upwards, before hitting the ground
sinking without trace.
All so incredibly reminiscent of us...

I never felt our nearness back then
maybe our stock piled debris got in the way.
Pots and pans full of heated simmering emotion
cracked eggs leaking trails of raw foul affection.

Wiping clean the bedroom mirror,
I still don't see him – he's become
insignificant: like snow on a long hot summer's day... !
Don't cry I say – I really am on your side.
But you know there will always be a part of me
you can: never have.
Therefore, without a hope to cling too -
I leave him alone with his gloom...

Poppy ~xx~



Poetry by Poppy
Read 863 times
Written on 2013-02-27 at 12:46

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shells
I enjoyed the way this was written, the emotions and every day objects of the second stanza worked so well and so does your title incorporated in the final stanza.
2013-02-27