Together
we gathered Sundays
tucked them into
long coats
and hid them from the kids
You bend
the Moon
toward me
a soft rain of light
pools beneath my eyes
and speaks of yesterday
when my skin
would harmonize with yours
a song we still give voice
only sometimes
in our
stolen moments
an hour
a minute
a moment lost and tossed
against the wall
to fall upon deaf ears
You will kiss my ravaged cheek
taste
my stained smile
and offer acceptance
once again
And with a touch
Sundays fall
from
forgotten
pockets
4 comments:
I want to whisper this one out loud as I read it. Well done, Chris. XOX
such lovely softness in this (and of course the moon is there, lol). lovely poem :)
Hi Bridget, long time no see *smile*
Hope life is treating you and your family well
Thanks Moon, my mojo may just be coming back *grin*
Hope so, its been too long
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