Moving by George Hodan |
“I Am, I Said” echoes off the walls
Of a nearly-barren apartment,
The half-filled cartons
Packed with the trappings
Of a broken life,
Mementos carefully sanitized
Of your presence…
If only memories
Were so easily cleansed.
No one is there in the emptiness,
Only me and Neil.
I close my eyes and see
The ratty green recliner
Leftover from your frat boy days,
Your tattered Elway jersey
Draped across the arm,
Photographs of laughing faces
Untouched by the taint of betrayal,
The calloused hands
That used to dry my tears.
Those tears fall freely
In this soon-to-be vacant place,
Yet another failed attempt
To build a world without you.
Neil understands my pain,
The loneliness that hangs
Like tattered curtains
In a low-rent room,
The need to keep moving on,
Not knowing if I’m running
Away from heartache
Or straight toward it.
I tell myself that the next town
Will perhaps be a bit less empty,
But no one is there to believe my lies.
No one is listening.
Not you.
Not Neil.
Not even the chair.
~~Written for the Day 1 Poem a Day prompt from Poetic Asides, write either a beginning poem or an ending poem.
Here's a little video of Neil Diamond singing "I Am, I Said," just to show you where a bit of the inspiration came from for this one.
1 comment:
So hard to feel that no one is there & no one is listening. That is one good thing about the poetry blogosphere. We all do listen!
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