Each day I forget
A grey cloud lingers
in the back of my head.
My husband's gone out.
No. He is dead.
He went out for The Times
early this morning.
At seven. No.
Seven years, since he
went to heaven. A grey
cloud lingers in the back
of my mind. I wait for the note
I each morning
find. There it is, propped up on the
table. But no cloud today,
alas, just the sorrow. I am
able to see what he wrote
"Dear, I've gone fishing
- I will be back by tomorrow"
in the back of my head.
My husband's gone out.
No. He is dead.
He went out for The Times
early this morning.
At seven. No.
Seven years, since he
went to heaven. A grey
cloud lingers in the back
of my mind. I wait for the note
I each morning
find. There it is, propped up on the
table. But no cloud today,
alas, just the sorrow. I am
able to see what he wrote
"Dear, I've gone fishing
- I will be back by tomorrow"
Reacties op dit gedicht
| Elymare: | Zaterdag, mei 10, 2014 20:52 |
| Puzzling... But I needed to get it, so I read it three times. Good sign :) | |
| luc de mey: | Zaterdag, maart 08, 2014 20:11 |
| Surprising in it''s confrontation, it moved me more than I expected. | |
| luc de mey: | Zaterdag, maart 08, 2014 19:43 |
| Surprising in it''s confrontation, it moved me more than I expected. | |
| luc de mey: | Zaterdag, maart 08, 2014 16:40 |
| Surprising in it''s confrontation, it moved me more than I expected. | |
Over dit gedicht
| Auteur: Ceridwen | 
|
|
| Gecontroleerd door: christina | ||
| Gepubliceerd op: 03 maart 2014 | ||
| Thema's: | ||