My closed eyes shake,
Trying to loose memories of you.
Like a tree in winter trembles,
Ridding itself of dead leaves.
I was the blur of a pedestrian,
To you speeding past me on the road.
Just a mass of color to distract you,
On your way to your real destination.
I am the miles and miles of highway
Already behind you, the beautiful,
Streak of passing scenery.
Not for roots, never for roots,
Only to move through.
I am a distraction, Jacobs ladder,
You pull me back and watch me swing
And swing and swing and swing and
Swing, gathering and storing energy
for you.
Only you become bored, hold one
In place and bring me to a clambering
Stop.
Dead leaves burning, to smoke out
Bees and memories.
I am hot summer wind whipping through
The trees shaking the last few golden
Hangers-on from dead branches.
Swing and swing and sway,
Stop.
Drop into the fire
And burn, burn away.
Burn the fucking energy wasted
Chasing bees.
YOU ARE READING
Blank Spaces
PoetryAn emotive journey through the empty places we visit but never want to see. The pain, the heartbreak, trying to see hope in places there may be none. And the secrets, and yes there are always secrets. Can you see them in this dark empty space? So it...
