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. 



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


Check out The Mag to read more work
inspired by this week's prompt.