Sighs After Midnight
It was 1984 and the clock struck thirteen when I left her
alone on the station of a one-horse town
with only the wind blowing hard for company
and the rain pouring down.
She used to tell me I had no heart,
how the love we shared was predestined to fall apart;
and as a distant jazz trumpet blew, lost in the gale
her tear stained face blurred in my view;
a result of the weather or the tears I cried too?
I cannot say now, but then in the soot and gloom,
a curtain which closed this play of love and doom,
I breathed many sighs after midnight was long gone
and that distant blue trumpet played on and played on,
pricking both my conscience and my soul...
Copyright © Tony Bush | Year Posted 2005
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment