Apart My World
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I sleep, abrupt awakened,
by stroke of fingered word.
A wide and lingering voice
plaintively whispering
so much view my eyes cannot digest,
so much ache, my soul cannot find rest.
You are that sound of distancing voice
never nearer now to me.
A pane upon my window beckoning
come see! come see!
I cannot wake to find a different view
or quit your echo in the things I do.
Memories of you are nuclear
atoms which, when split,
destroy my world.
Copyright © Vernon Witmer | Year Posted 2021
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