Stefania Carmen Misaila Poet Free verse

Killing Time

And it’s Sunday all over again, 
In my word and in your beauty.
Your silence, so fragile,
Penetrable and deep.
It’s like being trapped 
In a museum.
Monday, I feel my shoulders
Heavy as every instant
You become more bashful.
Tuesday turns to Thursday,
While I watch your 
Obsessive, irritated brow.  
I don’t want you to leave,
Yet you must…
I’d lock you up till Friday.
I’d write to you,
However it would not be me who rides
The pen… but
My spirit, pouting from disillusion.
Still, Saturday morning
You’ll surely be gone
And it will turn
To Sunday all over again…
For I still bear 
The weight of your death.

Another week and a killer 
I still remain.



© 2009 Stefania Carmen Misaila

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Luminita Stoica September 25, 2009 at 10:23 AM Exact asa am simtit si eu timpul azi, omorat cum il descrii in poezie :), so ceva a rezonat. Mutlumesc pentru comment! Nici eu nu stiam ca mai sunt romani pe aici, eu intru mai rar cand prind inspiratia de unul din piciore :). Bafta si multe muze iti urez! Luminita

Carol Sunshine Brown August 10, 2009 at 9:54 AM What a wonderful way to start a new week reading your new poetry Carmen.Thank you for sharing it. Love, Carol