At the Window

 


sun wind and waves 
the pull of moon 
and the moist littoral 
birth calendars and this:
gull shadows on the grass
mine behind me on the floor
a face warm with shame
ticking the days of belonging 
where i don’t
 
when the counting’s done
and the questioning’s 
over for another day
all i know is love in your absence
adds a glaze to my clay—
a proof against the world
and the pangs of belonging
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Bhi

This is one of the most beautiful and elegiac poems I have read; the images, allusions, and the ending perfect

griffonner

Yes, I agree with Bhi, this is really quite beautiful: The beauty coming from the construct that projects its melancholy in such a heartfelt way.
Allen