|
Whisper
by Kristine BrieseThis breeze dances in my window
Taunts and tickles and tugs me out
As I cross to your side of the street
I hope-wish-pray it has tugged you too
The breeze ghosts through the leaves
Of the oak above me and
In its whisper I hear the promise
You may or may not make
I feel the feathery caress
That may or may not be
Your hand on my shoulder and
I hope, oh, I hope
And as some pessimistic cloud blots out the sun
I hear again the leaves that
May or may not be your derision
I feel the shivery chill that
May or may not be your rejection
And shaken by this possibility
I go home, unencountered 03/20/2002 Posted on 09/01/2002
Copyright © 2026 Kristine Briese
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 06/04/07 at 11:03 PM The mis-click has finally clicked into consciousness - in this familiar strangeness - stranded in history, witnessing inevitability, unencountered. The echo of unheard voices. |
|
