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Setting Sun
by Richard VinceSomething always gets in the way;
Real or imagined, it becomes
An elephant in the room that
At least one of us can see.
Sometimes, I catch her eye
And I see disdain; I see
All the teenage disgust distilled
Into a single glance. Is it
Really there, or is it merely
A reflection of my self doubt?
Once I have seen it, I cannot
Ignore it. It stays in the back of
My mind, burned onto my retinas,
A watermark on all I see;
A festering wound.
Without realising, I am staring,
And her discomfort becomes real,
Forcing her to close up and look away.
After that, her eyes are never
Quite the same. Another way is
Blocked; another door closed.
I am doomed to stare only at
The setting Sun as it pulls me
Back to seventeen.
07/03/2013 Posted on 09/01/2013
Copyright © 2025 Richard Vince
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 09/03/13 at 07:35 PM Richard, I am 75 and my love is still the girl in class when I was in the last year of high school. Though we live 3000 miles apart she never leaves my mind. |
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