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Reruns of Saturday
by Karen MichelleWe drove toward
the mountains, hoping
to find the familiar
pool of light at the
end of the road;
But halfway there
my mind did somersaults
and I longed for the
comfort of home.
Sinking into darkness
and blankets of midnight,
you whispered this
was heaven, and I felt
for a moment that
maybe it could be.
Yet these limbs
felt weighted down
by slivers and streams of
moonlight, dancing hauntingly
in the frigidity of winter
as it found its way
sneakily, through your
closed window.
And the night ended
abruptly, with a sigh
as the heat left our lips
and fell prey to
the chill in the air -
these are the seconds
that remind me, we
are not invincible.
08/08/2004 Author's Note: Not my best work but it's been so long that I thought I should at least add something here...Please leave me a comment and tell me what you think (if not for this poem, then something else).
Posted on 08/08/2004
Copyright © 2024 Karen Michelle
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Charles E Minshall on 08/08/04 at 05:27 AM Nice poem Karen. The second stanza says it for me. Whenever I travel I am always glad to get
back home...Charlie |
| Posted by Rachelle Howe on 08/08/04 at 07:35 PM i think there is a lot of deeper semblances than what are usually being tapped into in this piece. the journey, i would think, could be seen as the journey through life. and the ending is exactly what we need to remember: that we control nothing, and yet, can find solace in our dependence. not in man, obviously, but in the highers. always higher.
thoughtful. indeed. (welcome home.) |
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