monday

How lucky I am to have something 

that makes saying goodbye so hard.

-- Winnie the Pooh

Between Us

Goodbye is the shelf

on which I sit -- 

feet dangling, stark

bare tick of clock, a self 

grown still and empty 

as the room we left

the window 

where I watch, chin set just so

atop my hollow

cup of hand, eyes propped

and waiting on the sill, and when

you placed me here, I hoped

that I would never

be allowed to gather dust

-- smh

You would be safe to assume that I find myself a bit lonely. Oh well...and so the solo adventure begins! After yesterday's Magpie, I figured I may as well indulge it and run with the theme for a moment. Okay, I think I'm done now. 

sunday

Poet's Sleep, Chang Houg Ahn, 1989

In Context

I find our words

mean different things

sometimes –

the way goodbye

has just become a chapter break

your face each time

I close my eyes, a pause

a bench, a place

I wait, it seems to me perhaps

we shouldn’t use goodbye

please tell me

there’s a better word

for this

--smh

Check out The Mag to read more work

inspired by this week's prompt.