Poem of the Week
untitled
* i honestly have no idea when i wrote this. i found it and really liked it- i don't remember writing it though... but it was in my handwriting in one of my journals. enjoy it. *
Had it only been glass
between us as you raised
your hand to say goodbye?
How many panes were there?
Let's see.
The station window,
the bus window...
You became a red dot and
then the bus turned the corner.
I took my shoes off.
I cried like a gutter
and ran out of sleeves.
I knew that in eight hours
I'd be drinking in the desert
somewhere alone
where the colors of the sky
at sunset match your hair.
I knew that before
morning I'd be drunk
with dancing ghosts
and old rifles.
You and the snow.
Me and the sand.
It's not fair, is it?
- Saturday, June 03, 2006 poem of the week archives