Well, it’s done now,
words written, raw
thought released, not
held in, too late now,
no going back, if only,
we’d met, we’d spoken,
eye-lined, heard words,
well, it’s done now,
finger trouble, texted.
~
For what it’s worth,
I’d been warned, that
photograph, too good,
not yours, too late, you
had me, looks and lines,
the way you took to being
mine, you never were, I see
it now, yet, years on, still ask,
could you, could I, be real?
~
Just a letter, lying there
found on return, a week
of junk mail layered thick
picked up, shuffled, let slip,
as if a plea, don’t bin, please
read, decades on, words link,
of her, of him, pull close,
erase past doubts, mistakes,
love’s last post, of her to him.
Absolutely love this my friend 🖤🖤
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Thank you, always good to see you here.
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So many layers of regret, sadness, even bitterness woven in here Eric.
A novel in three verses.
You’ve made each word count.
Powerfully crafted.
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Thank you Roger – vague memories of youth re-woven for the online age.
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An evocative tapestry Eric.
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I love it when you tell a longer story with your verse, Eric. This is lovely and the tone so melancholy. Beautifully written.
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Thank you Diana – I hope all is well with you.
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Eric, you’re such a wonderful storyteller with your poetry, heartache and wistfulness and all. Thank you for sharing these. -sigh-
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Thank you Tara – I like capturing moments and finding links between them to make them more.
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