Image via Magpie Tales
Ghost in the corner of the eye as
Counselor's door smacked my ass
hollow boom of sanctioned freedom
imploded in a fevered skull
She followed me to the car
worn leather soles scratching a dance
on oily pavement, halogen mirror balls
glaring up the garage park club
Keys of the beater I got to keep
papers on its roof, a sheaf
of lead ending our mutual bondage
heavier wings we have never flapped
At stall 19 we stopped, me to weep
she to spin, or was it my head?
in the light of release she blurred
into the hard grey of my new prison
Posts
fantastically heavy
ReplyDeletewow!!.love
ReplyDeleteThank you!
Deleteoh my- so well written!
ReplyDeleteYou are kind to say so. Thank you!
DeleteRaw heady romantic delicious...licking my fingers...mmm...
ReplyDelete"heavier wings have never flapped," indeed. Excellent wording here on the sorrow of divorce.
ReplyDeleteGlad you liked it. That phrase seemed fitting.
DeleteThis is awesome!
ReplyDeleteThank you!
DeleteVery well done, with wonderful imagery!
ReplyDeleteSo kind of you. Thank you for reading.
DeleteTwelve steps to true love , eh ! Great write
ReplyDeleteHa! Good take on it. Thank you!
DeleteThe labels you chose add another dimension to this beautifully crafted poem.
ReplyDeleteSo well done. A pleasure to read.
ReplyDelete=)
those heavy wings...love that image!
ReplyDeleteWhen endings are as important as beginnings. A pleasure to see that moment defined so succinctly.
ReplyDeleteYes! That's it! Thank you.
Deleteah gumbo. yes
ReplyDeleteGreetings, Michael. Glad you could stop by.
DeleteI do what I can. Thank you :)
ReplyDelete