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Reflection on the last Six Months
Last night I saw you stir,
you were half asleep as I was,
listless because life's
a dreary affair, what thoughts
you have of me I do not know,
but the flowers weep no more,
It was your hand that made the sign
and I looked the other way,
old dreams must die someday,
I sighed but still
I listened to the warm words
rise like smoke from your lips,
dead muse that walks again,
I found the air different
when I vacated your shade, freer,
wilder than the goat god promised
and certainly uncertain, it felt like
a dagger in my belly, I bled sweet pain
and twisted like a serpent in my sleep.
She was infinitely more mature
than I am, her words were true,
I am a reflection in a shattered mirror,
the disfigurement must be an illusion
and you, dread love, a dream.
About This Poem
Style/Type: Free verse
Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
raj
10 years 3 months ago
Hi William
So good to know you rediscovered your love of poetry from which you had said you felt a bit alienated a few days back. A good read..
Regards,
wesley snow
10 years 3 months ago
Not sure I understood all the twists,
but the language always pleases. Most important is that you posted at all. That's exciting.
Simon Smythe
10 years 3 months ago
this is my kind of poetry
dragging up the uncomfortable truths.
this one reads like it descended upon you and was valiantly wrestled onto paper.
judyanne
10 years 3 months ago
hi William
An intriguing write
I thought I had it sussed, until the last stanza....
Who is the other 'she'? A new muse?
great word useage, descriptive and use of imagery
I especially like 'but the flowers weep no more', and the last three lines of the second stanza
love judy
xxx
William Saint George
10 years 3 months ago
Good thing you noticed there
Good thing you noticed there was another 'she'. That one is a new friend who made an impression on me. She's not the same as the muse I spoke of earlier.