Only the AbsenceA Poem by Rosalie KempthorneA poem about lossThese are the memories: The sand on fire, The sky on fire, The tiny torch of actual fire, Encircled by stones. Toasting marshmallows. Her with her feet bare, and her cardigan around her shoulders, Dancing under multiple fires.
Running up to the beach house, Clattering on the steps, Always something to eat up there, The roof to sit on in the middle of the night and count the stars, While the plums blossomed, And a distance of cars came and went off to the north. Dreams were free, Back in those days.
The beach house is old and rotting, Time has had her way with it, Time and neglect, and shifting, human feelings. Her roof all bloodied in the rust; While her boards are chapped by the sun, Part green, part bare and weathered. And her door hasn’t opened in so many years.
The sand is scarred with her footprints. Running along, whooping, calling out to be joined. Forever young. My own face parched and impaired, A head full of grey, Eyes full of old, full of regrets and misgivings. The beach has turned windswept and wild. Where has the golden sand gone? The golden sunset? Where is her voice in the wind? There is only the beach, unmarked and empty. There is only the absence. © 2018 Rosalie KempthorneReviews
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StatsAuthorRosalie KempthorneNew ZealandAboutI am a writer of a variety of genres, novels, short stories and some poetry. I joined WritersCafe in the hopes of sharing my work with a wider audience. I also have stories on ABC Tales, Every Day F.. more..Writing
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