Monday, 26 October 2015

Parsing





It’s the same, yet different after decades,
the smell of aftershave, a fleck of foam
left on the mirror, and the sense of home
ebbs out as you leave, courage fades a few shades.


You’ll say nearness is nothing, I know you will;
once I had said it too, and could ignore
who came in and went out of my front door.
I could breathe a smell and smile and sit still.


And even as time blends and changes things -
love grows a deeper, richer underground seam,
I fidget a bit now in the slipstream
and I parse the patience in my feelings.


I once knew to be content with faint smells;
now I'm made breathless by distance, and farewells.







4 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. Autumn always feels like a good time to celebrate the inner melancholia :)

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  2. You're missing someone Nila. Perhaps your husband has just left for another trip? I love the fleck of foam/left on the mirror...so poignant...:-)

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    Replies
    1. Now that you mention it, he does seem to be on rather a lot of business trips :D

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