To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
Click Here To add this poem to your "Voting Possibilities" list!
I Study Our Photographs I study our photographs relentlessly on still winter evenings. Views in living color, captured moments filling albums filling shoeboxes (but not filling me). See! Ski slope still-lives, you with apple-red cheeks, me--Chiquita Banana in yellow boots, distant, posed, two painted figurines insinuated in fresh snow. In bed at night I open my eyes to darkness, do my best to reconstruct you. Eyes, chin, lips, nose, the imperfect ears, all of you free-floating fragments unwilling to coalesce. Thank God I can still bury my face in your old sweater. Your scent lingers there, molecules, suspended in thick gray wool. You are not lost to me completely. |
Additional Notes:
A 'gentle' rewrite of a poem I submitted in November.
Sorry, there are no critiques for this poem in our system... If the poem is older, the critiques have been purged!