Missed, But Only Through Looking
The cold curls round as the dark unfurls,
To a night that’s grim.
A glint of a hope for a ray of light,
To break forth and shatter,
To remove and replace the silence with a sound,
For warmth to spill,
From our desire its own desire to be heard,
To be held and to matter
Hope that holds and binds it,
The same hope that blinds you,
To what’s already in front of you,
You missed her but only through looking.
Copyright © Jack Blackburn | Year Posted 2008
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