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Where the Weeds End
By johntaiyu
Watching my lover
driving away,
these hands grasp
at air and smoke,
like a deer hiding
where the weeds end
and the road begins,
and though there is
the screaming urge
to run out into her lights,
it's best to recall
how the smart ones turn
and step quickly
quietly
barely noticed
back to the darkness
that warmly blankets
even the coldest
snow.
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© 2007 johntaiyu
Published on Tuesday, August 28, 2007.
Filed under:
"Poetry"
Comments on "Where the Weeds End"
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On Tuesday, September 11, 2007, Mari
(419)
wrote:
.
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A former member wrote:
encapsulating write; the images make us near blind with anguish, as the deer. . .so succinct and sinewed clear. . .i should have read this with a whisper voice~
ness
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On Tuesday, August 28, 2007, Narcissa
(397) wrote:
Bitterly alone. beautifully written.
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On Tuesday, August 28, 2007, Guillotine
(168) wrote:
It takes so much to swallow that emotion... whatever name we try to tag onto it. Desperation, pride, that completely crushing vice of emotion that hurts so much to pull yourself away with... I understand this way too well and was utterly wrenching.
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On Tuesday, August 28, 2007, Guillotine
(168) wrote:
Glad I read this John. Haven't had something hit this close to home in a long time.
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On Tuesday, August 28, 2007, elisa
(1604) wrote:
...makes my heart ache.... perfectly conveyed.
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On Tuesday, August 28, 2007, Sketso
(431) wrote:
Nicely spoken... none of us want to end up as "the spot" on the road.
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