Widower
Knowing there are
many words for night;
mightwatch,nightshade,nightfall
but none for the space
of a halved bed,
an envelope starched,
flat with white,
unslept in
and hands devoid of
a trace of perfume or rest warmth,
a gentle curve.
Let him cherish the lost presence
of a drowned moon
of darkness long
of standing time.
Copyright © Leslie Philibert | Year Posted 2015
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