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Garden
by Richard VinceYou pose for your portrait
Among the flowerbeds and I am
Transported back a quarter of
A century, stumbling in heavy
Boots as I hurry out of
Your way.
None of it makes sense:
Disillusionment failed to
Disillusion my memories –
At least, the ones that matter –
And so a fondness lives on
In the cracks in the floor
Of my heart, a longing for
The unknown (even though
I know enough), a desire to
Relight the fires of hell I am
Glad were extinguished.
She seemed to arrive with
Spring, and so have you, though
My growth is no longer new,
My blooming has seen
A higher Sun, a longer day.
Of course, our paths crossed
Again, just as they would have
Done back then, but this time
You saw what was in my eyes,
And I wonder if you knew
What it meant.
05/08/2024 Posted on 06/09/2024
Copyright © 2026 Richard Vince
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Nadia Gilbert Kent on 06/17/24 at 04:05 AM dreaming of alternate realities instead of entertaining the cherries we've picked should be an olympic sport |
| Posted by Johanna May on 05/09/25 at 02:44 AM A whole novel/life/biography behind the orbs of our eyes, behind the cranium—never ceases to amaze me. I know how odd my mind is versus my appearance, so I don’t measure people through their surface. If we all only knew, there are poets amongst us. |
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