Yearnng.

This has happened once or twice recently.


Middle of the night

silence all around,

what woke me up,

what was that sound?

Was it the creaking of a boot,

Or perhaps a night owl’s hoot?

I put out my hand

your space is bare

then I realise,

you’re no longer there.

There it is again

quite close to my ear

I’m not worried

I have no fear.

Perhaps it is you

wanting to be near.

I close my eyes 

silence returns 

I shed some tears 

as my heart yearns.

 

 

 

© pommer 2021
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critique and comments welcome.
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Pronto

Bereavement can be devastating, especially in the ‘wee small hours’ Very well expressed.

Savvi

Aye Pommer there are some spaces that cant be filled, maybe there not meant to be, well penned.

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