Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2015
sun in my eyes, standing there,
on the platform,
as her train pulled away,  
hoping a cloud storm,
would rain hard,
as to stay coping with forms
of sunsets flashing
red hues of warning,
with each passing window
burned the optic nerve,
into my brain,
with each passing window,
pain welled up and exhaling
as the last car of the last train
carried all my sadness in the
eddies and backwash
in a breath of air,
gravity is a strange thing
when you fall for someone
and they leave,
you are drawn in, by the vaccum,
and may not catch yourself,
or have the will to stop,
from the four foot drop to the tracks,

thank goodness
my grandparents and
my parents put
that harness on,
that they had for me...and (my brother)
in words
"All the love
from horizon
   to horizon"
It did not happen quite this way, but this it what it felt like
Sunsets here represent change, and an end (of sorts) she did not wok nights and I know most people go to work "daytime"
Ottar
Written by
Ottar  where you will find me
(where you will find me)   
688
   ryn
Please log in to view and add comments on poems