Tuesday, April 17, 2018


… the inner gauge is rising to its peak …

Anger raises its head
as I thrash in my bed.
The hot flush of pink is flowing.
To my brow, it isn’t slowing.

I remember his aqua eyes
as he retold his many lies.
I watched the grim line of his frown
as he turned my world upside down.

I won’t let him ruin my night.
I need him out of my sight.
No more meetings in the dark
beneath the elm in the park.

No more whispers as we walk.
I know the town loves to talk.
I say goodbye to my fickle love
as the moon bows its head above.

No comments:

Post a Comment