Subconsciously I move and
Make room, even though I know
There is no one to accommodate.

There is always space for you,
Even though I seem to forget
About you. There is always
Someone to remind me: some
Part of you reflected in their
Mirror if I look for it.

The picture fades slowly, but
I will always see it when
I look, and I will never cease
To try to find you.

*
That was the longest half hour
Of my life, he says, but for her
It would have been like
Just a few minutes.

She was oblivious to the noise
And the action; oblivious to all
Except him. She was like
A three dimensional painting
Ignored by all except me.

*
She travels home alone, as
The insistent midnight wind
Blows the fallen leaves.

Perhaps she has someone
Awaiting her return, as I do;
Maybe her mind is now full
Of the cold door handle
And the still, quiet air
Of empty rooms.

Maybe all that waits to
Welcome her home is
A light she left on.

11/11/2007

Posted on 11/11/2007
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince