flowered images
she poured a glass of red wine
chianti
it was ...
their favourite
dried streams
of
black / blue
trace the outlines
of her cheeks
black / blue
tears
dried
on her white blouse
she sits
crossed legged
in the left corner
of the couch
where he ...
used to sit
her head on a small pillow
on his lap
as they watched TV
or
just
talked
music
in the background
now
in silence
in darkness
she watches the window
as headlights
cast
flowered images
through the sheers
on the walls
around her
then
darkness ...
again
no car
pulls
into
the driveway
she pours another red wine
chianti
it used ...
to be their favourite
January 20, 2015
YOU ARE READING
Bridge
PoetryWhat happens when all the talking has stopped? When the love is there but hidden? When the bridge crumbles?
