poetry critical

online poetry workshop

in stage two of learning to cope.

I miss the times
when we knew
the quiet, when we spoke
the best of our loving
within it like the light
buzz of hummingbirds after rain.
I miss the times, regret the times,
the shots at you, now; and regret
this conviction: an existence,
led with cinderblock. Today,
the silence is really
very thick and wedges
between the teeth, and
suffocates. I am sick,
and pray to rejoin
you as a tree,
a maple in clam repose.
Until then, I can only remember
the laughter of your eyes. Your voice
again, I should never realize.

6 Feb 07

Rated 9.5 (9.5) by 2 users.
Active (2): 9, 10
Inactive (0):

(define the words in this poem)
(104 more poems by this author)

(1 user considers this poem a favorite)

Add A Comment:
Enter the following text to post as unknown: captcha


this is so sad. i really like it, especially the last three lines.
 — popyelle

^ agreed.
 — unknown

Very good poem!
 — porgie

Newest (expand)
Recently Commented (expand)