Soon

Before an absence.

When the sun sets next your suitcase will be gone;
the memories will have been created;
the smiles will have faded;
the tears will have dried,
and the voices died down.
The breath of your passage will be a wind
scattering the ashes of my heart to the poles.

Reviews

[Vincent Esprit FMI]

wow..what a fatalistic blow to the heart! you have certainly captured that image Michael!

Vincent

[J.P.O.et]

I feel such a sense of the absence/void in this. You really capture it well and no wasted breath here, you make every word count. Like the internal rhyme with created/faded, dried died. The last two lines are superb,

'The breath of your passage will be a wind
scattering the ashes of my heart to the poles.'

That is beautifull

J.P.O.et

[Crinkle°]

sadly... but gorgeous poetry.