When He’s Gone
When
(everything runs like clockwork,
days wax productive, progress
persists, efficiency endures
spawning more action,
less distraction,
fewer inter-
ruptions,
but
time
migrates
more slowly,
hours looming longer,
singular smiles mooring
nights filled with emptiness,
music masking silence, then it must be)
he’s gone.
Oh, PSC -- this is BRILLIANTLY penned! The tone, the way you made most of the poem parenthetical (is that the way to say it?). The hour glass is sheer perfection, the conflicting feelings clearly shown with the "positives" in the upper chamber, flowing to "but" in direct center, sifting to "negatives" in the bottom chamber, ending with the realization and completion of the title "he's gone." OH.MY.WORD. A brilliant, brilliant write!!
ReplyDeleteWell you just made my day, Marie -- thank you! Been an incredibly busy month and I can't seem to keep up with anything, but your lovely comments have brought a smile to my face -- that just may last for days! Thanks! :-)
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