TBD2

It is with a great amount of courage

that I stand at her front door.

I step forward, knock, step back.

I have long awaited the chance

to speak with her, face to face,

and yet, at the sound of her

footsteps approaching,

I wish only to be elsewhere.

(The door opens, cautiously,

as if she had taken the time

to check who was calling.)

Your room is shuttered with fear,

composed of scornful years and

disregarded love notes.

Please me, would you, by allowing

me inside, a mere moment of your time

out of the cold?

Except, it did not come out that way,

a poetically rehearsed statement.

It was, actually, nothing more than a simple

“Hello,”

and

“thank you.”

As she gestured for me to come inside.

Half-heartedly, we spoke of

simple things, of work and money,

though nothing of time lost.

(Given the intricacy of her

floorplan, the context of a neat

wedding collage, the chance

of my visit seems to alleviate

little of our final words ten years prior.)

My hostage, my stranger,

perhaps we will never truly learn

each other's first name.

“Please excuse me, I must be going,”

I say, interrupting the awkward silence.

The time has passed

for the issue mistakenly addressed

as somewhat romantic.

She is a thief. Nothing more.

“You take care now,”

I say as, smiling, I exit her door.

And, as expected,

she fails to hesitate as she

secures it behind me.

Reviews

[David Scott]

I wonder if she even knows?
Chances are she knows more than she allows to be seen.
I could feel the anticipation and the build up as well as the disappointment.
Great story telling in this poetry.

You should post each chapter as a separate poem here. You would get more reviews this ways. IMO...

[roscoe]

I think thats a good idea. I have rewritten portions of this piece several times, but maybe breaking it up would allow better feedback. More specific, I mean. I appreciate your review, thank you.