Haunting
Here on the lonely chair I sit and wait
For the little droplet of nectar that’s slowly forming
Inside the warm womb of the dahlia
The gradual coming down of night and her mystic attendants
I relish with a warm cup of coffee, I sip at
The bliss of being alone, when nobody’s around
Is that a shooting star? Has it gone right past my head?
I ask you, whose long absence I have grown used to
‘Cause light years ago we used to sit together
Little dew drops spluttering upon my head
A night bird screeches past, and in an instant
I find you, once again in my arms, your dead eyes still glaring.
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
