On a platform. The End of Something.
Just a bystander,
an eye-witness,
a non-participant passer by.
Waiting.
Watching.
Wondering.
Lost love’s last minutes.
We.
Three.
A triangulation in a station.
Station to stationary.
Parallel line paralysis.
A dreary juncture,
cross-country junction.
Years together,
on-course.
Now the
busy,
deserted, drabness,
melt-water, winter
concourse.
Just a bystander,
an innocent
on-looker.
Passing by.
.
© swissterrace 2023
Views: 1482
I read Swiss Terrace’s poem on the front page and decided to look at more. This poem uses imagery that is superlative. Well done writer.