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charlie-seaPoems
Hazy crescent, Fueled in memories Sunny days, Beaches we kissed Streets & hugging Bottles, hammocks, work over Nothing left Irredeemable Retrievable, Only through shining down. Where are your lips now? Locked with others As pale light Remembers both of others The stocky brown dog Following my spring And children still on skates with hockey sticks Cars will doubtless roll on, Not slower As their existence in our life wanes And if I traveled back Would I find myself in the same shade, Looking over? Surely He’d relax elsewhere Silver light watches In solitary moments, Nostalgia becomes my character, I stare at the sky Then look away As I did, Feeling too shy, As your eyes regarded me
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May 23, 2010
May 23, 2010 at 4:33 PM UTC
To Luna, who makes me cry
Hazy crescent, Fueled in memories Sunny days, Beaches we kissed Streets & hugging Bottles, hammocks, work over Nothing left Irredeemable Retrievable, Only through shining down. Where are your lips now? Locked with others As pale light Remembers both of others The stocky brown dog Following my spring And children still on skates with hockey sticks Cars will doubtless roll on, Not slower As their existence in our life wanes And if I traveled back Would I find myself in the same shade, Looking over? Surely He’d relax elsewhere Silver light watches In solitary moments, Nostalgia becomes my character, I stare at the sky Then look away As I did, Feeling too shy, As your eyes regarded me
Written by
charlie-sea
Canadian
May 23, 2010
May 23, 2010 at 4:33 PM UTC
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