IV

I think I see you sometimes like a dream; fading through dissipating skeins
Of consciousness with that trembling terrible mortal gleam, quavering lingeringly –
Like miles of last receding rays at dusk scurrying back over long darkling seas and planes.
We share many things about us: things like lying in silence on the sofa by the wide window,
Rolling to a precious pause in the still day with the bare blue sky stretching outside.

Like watching films and time pass, being intimate in our souls. I never saw your large dark eyes
So clearly, sternly mesmerising, as when I looked into them each day in memories and hopes;
The steady celestial silhouettes of distant mountain ridges drawing me on into the next minute.
Through soft translucent veils I feel your imprint of a gaze as I make the tea each morning.
Watching through your watching as I cycle wildly daily down long leaf-strewn tracks to trains by traffic.

As I step into the water you step too. That could be your hand on mine as my heart slows,
I think of shopping for vegetables and your favorite juice, saving for the rent, betting on baseball,
Soup when I was ill and our sweet aggravating cat you mainly hated – and my mind goes.
Wrenching tearing waiting holds me here: immobilised with shock or pain or summer rain
Which flows from grieving fissures in hysterical torrents as though it will never stop.

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About SKYDEA CLOUD

Current affairs, controversialities, politics and poetry: thinking about issues and questions facing the world today.
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