I decided I would walk downtown today,
past the irish pubs
and the fancy restaurants
on the oldest street in town
The icy air pulled at my cheeks,
making them hurt and go red,
like my grandmother.
I stuffed my hands into the
wool encases,
two fingers for each arm.
it comes as a shock,
feeling the final gasp of autumn
at the hands of winter,
triumphant.
I approach the familiar red globe
and two curvy tails
perched atop the glass titanic
reaching to the sky,
scraping our gas giant
with the edge of it's mirrors
But it is in this reflection
that strikes me,
more than the blinding light of the sun,
or the loud music across the street.
I walk alone.
I do not see your hands in mine
or your modest black skirt.
your beautiful bright brown eyes
no longer look into mine,
your glowing face no longer comforts me.
I can't see your hair,
or smell the smell of j-lo
coming from your skin.
I can't see your smile
in the mirror reflection,
and I can't see your beauty;
not for awhile.
A man takes your place for a moment-
he walks promptly past me,
grey briefcase in hand.
Stiff shoulders replace your soft skin.
he stays only long enough to snap me back.
back to without you.
Merrick
Nov 24,2011
Feb 28, 2012
Feb 28, 2012 at 11:22 PM UTC
I decided I would walk downtown today,
past the irish pubs
and the fancy restaurants
on the oldest street in town
The icy air pulled at my cheeks,
making them hurt and go red,
like my grandmother.
I stuffed my hands into the
wool encases,
two fingers for each arm.
it comes as a shock,
feeling the final gasp of autumn
at the hands of winter,
triumphant.
I approach the familiar red globe
and two curvy tails
perched atop the glass titanic
reaching to the sky,
scraping our gas giant
with the edge of it's mirrors
But it is in this reflection
that strikes me,
more than the blinding light of the sun,
or the loud music across the street.
I walk alone.
I do not see your hands in mine
or your modest black skirt.
your beautiful bright brown eyes
no longer look into mine,
your glowing face no longer comforts me.
I can't see your hair,
or smell the smell of j-lo
coming from your skin.
I can't see your smile
in the mirror reflection,
and I can't see your beauty;
not for awhile.
A man takes your place for a moment-
he walks promptly past me,
grey briefcase in hand.
Stiff shoulders replace your soft skin.
he stays only long enough to snap me back.
back to without you.
Merrick
Nov 24,2011