Posted by: Ron DuBour | March 6, 2016

Daily missive breaks into the weekend Sunday the 6th of March.~by Peter Forster



Daily missive breaks into the weekend Sunday the 6th of March.

I saw a glimpse of you
In the snow flakes
As they spiralled
To the ground
Moments of beauty
Never to be repeated
The sun
Peeped from behind
The trees
Playing a sensuous game
Of hide and seek
For want of something
Better to do.
The bleach of its golden rays
Splintered through
The twisting boughs
Were as wildly lustrous
As your tresses
Flowing in a spring breeze.
I was loathe to turn away
Even as those searing bands
To scar my aged retina.
In the distance
You stood out from the crowd,
Waiting at a check out,
Later boarding a bus.
I recognized your walk
The tilt of your head
In the reflection
Of a window.
It was a jewellers
At which you so often stopped
I thought to call
As you stepped into a lift,
Just too far away to reach
Walking so far ahead
Lost in a melee
Of Saturday shoppers
How could that be?
I would know you anywhere
Even in the bright light
It was sickeningly bleak,
Swamped by noise and chatter
Laughter that rattled
In an echo of humour
A poor imitation
Of flattery
In response
To being a good sport.
Silence comes wrapped in
Sack cloth
Dulling the ragged senses
Washed into the background
Painted into a corner
By familiar sounds,
Chastening and hastening
My departure
In the weave and curl
Of the familiar
Now so foreign
In its sharp demands.
Balloon people,
Blank and alien
The crush
Of such proximity
More than merely isolating,
Deadlier than ghostly.
The bland expanse
Of life’s banality
Leaves me cold,
Nary feeling part
Of anything
Or anywhere
Without you.

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