C.W. Bryan Poet Free verse

Escaping the Mud

I can still hear her boots
hit the pavement as she walks
away. Her sanguine footsteps
swallowed up by the greedy
black night, feasting on
her departure. Waning 
moonlight silhouettes every
lithe movement, the winter air
highlighting every hot breath.
I fill my lungs with air,
its cold fingers tear at my lungs
and sink into my chest as I watch
 her disappear into the concrete ocean.
The leaves walk down the street
holding hands with the wind,
casting worried looks my way,
laughing, but lack the courage 
to look me in the eye.
Their judgment ignites my
tinderbox of rage, and the fear
and longing and despair and grief
and loss and regret and guilt and
loneliness
come alive in a conflagration 
of purple and green and yellow and
orange and red and blue and pink and
black.
It burns fast and bright as
it wrestles with the cold inside me,
breaking its fingers to loosen the icy
grip on my lungs and I send 
a desperate prayer to her, 
reaching for her, pleading for her to
turn around and come back to me.
She escapes my grasp,
like pulling heavy footfall
out of freshly watered mud,
when the muck only lets go
reluctantly, and she wipes her shoes
on the doormat as she
walks inside, alone.

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment