|
Transitory
by Anita MacMy shoulders are
cold from disuse,
but all the more appealing.
I was headed this way
long before you reappeared.
I’ve just been waiting.
Holding it all in
and waiting
for you to show up with your
kind smile, and
open heart, and
strong arms
that now for some reason
keep me at their length.
So predictably unfair is
the passing of time
and
our timing.
09/01/2016 Posted on 09/02/2016
Copyright © 2025 Anita Mac
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Richard Vince on 09/05/16 at 10:40 PM you always use just enough words to be seriously moving. just perfect. it's good to see you writing (and posting) again. :) |
| Posted by Rob Littler on 09/06/16 at 02:43 PM ˈtransətôrē YO!
There is a subtle wisdom here making me ask myself: what if one pining got one's desires? timing as useful as the sun when sleeping, or is loving always the idea of disuse disguised as feigning...thanks for your subtly. |
|
