The old woman of the shoreline
sits in her wheelchair in the sand.
I am leaving soon, she says.
I am leaving in two or three days.
I’ll not be back.
We’re having a party, she tells the young man of her dreams.
Everyone will be there, you must be there.
I can’t come, he says. He kneels in the sand at her feet,
touches her leg, wonders if she can feel his touch.
I have a previous engagement, he says.
Her eyes are blue, though it’s said by some they once were brown.
She takes his hand. He whispers to her.
3 responses so far ↓
1 Averil // Aug 15, 2013 at 7:52 am
Beautiful.
2 Tetman Callis // Aug 15, 2013 at 12:17 pm
thank you, averil
3 Ebr // Sep 10, 2013 at 3:24 am
I adore your poetry. I have not been witring any poetry for a couple of months but I plan to get back to it very soon . I love coming to your blog and reading your poems. They really resonate with me. Thank you so much for your amazing blog. I will be back to keep on reading
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