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Click hereAll along and along. Standing waiting.
Every day for two whole weeks
Ringlets, wet plastered to skull, fading colour
18 hours of every day: eyes wide
6 hours every night: eyes closed
Just one dream in all those nights
Finding them safe and well
Another day, stand in the shadow of the next building
Out of the sun, hazel eyes scan
the street,
the people,
the cars.
Watching and
waiting.
And another day, screaming agony running
invisible scars from hip to knee.
Too long standing.
Too many years bending to hold tiny hands,
scurrying feet toddling
not enough years shared, still waiting
Memories of other days fill the hours:
Whoosh her into the sky, light as a feather.
Fear and sudden laughter at the too long fall from flying
freeze frame her angel face
And every day
Tears unbidden and unashamed fall
like rain to drip from nose and chin.
Ringlets dry, throat wet.
Staring eyes capture each and every passing face,
discarding, dismissing
but above all and everything
that last from Pandora’s box persists
This poem is has a fluidity and shape that fits the pain of its expression, i.e., it does what a good poem should do. Such simplicity of words throughout make it more expressive. The opening four words take one immediately into "poetry" - deftly, simply. The third and fourth stanzas are a real history that belie the suffering. The last line a missile to the heart. Splendid work, Gauche.
This was very deep, powerfully written it was expertly delivered.
at a bus stop.
gives a glimpse of what goes on inside our heads sometimes
excellent work
Thank you
very much. Powerful emotion, and excellent pace. Great reading.