by Richard Vince

There is no curve to draw
My tired eyes; no subtle shape
To follow as I fail to feel
Time passing.

Blue skies and palm trees
Give way to beer mats and
Beamed ceilings in the
Mirror of her open eyes, and yet
The reflections are no more
Like home: we share a world
But inhabit different worlds.

Perhaps the hyperextension is
The same though: unsettling
On a primal level as well as
A logical one; a warning
To come no closer.

A few feet could be miles,
Could be light years: I am
No closer than I was last time,
Sitting alone, wondering how
I came to miss so much.


Posted on 12/05/2019
Copyright © 2020 Richard Vince

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Glenn Currier on 12/07/19 at 05:09 PM

I especially love that last stanza. But your whole poem makes me think of how I am both close to and distant from people and things around me. It seems boundaries are good things but they also can be used to separate me from and decrease the probability of deeper connections. It takes a degree of wisdom and love to find the balance, I think. Thanks so much Richard.

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