Gershon Wolf Poet Imagism

You Are Not There

I felt our affair fray
at the fringes
singed by day
When you, stole away
by night, furtive flight
the fabric tore
It blew away...

I sit and knit, stitch my name
in the air of where, you are not there
needle-dart, in-and-out, but a game
just the same, O, please
reappear, dry my tears
and with these
two hands thin
I would spin
our web in
material
ethereal
darling
dear--
real...

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Maureen McGreavy Pigeon Tart July 15, 2019 at 8:55 PM I do not recall reading a love poem of yours before. When you do it, you do it well my friend. xomo Gershon Wolf July 15, 2019 at 9:14 PM Why, thank you so much. It has been quite awhile since I ventured down this treacherous path... Appreciate your generous evaluation, M.M. Best wishes, gw

Kim Rodrigues July 15, 2019 at 6:26 PM An unusual write with a likewise unusual shape...like your stitches run out... Kim Rodrigues July 16, 2019 at 6:01 AM Love that your unorthodox! Gershon Wolf July 15, 2019 at 8:14 PM A veritable sand-dial of stitches. Thanks for the feedback, Kim. ~ Unorthodox Poet