Like many who write verse, I tend to be overly preoccupied with subjects such as love and death and these come together in this Gothic sonnet.
THE RETURN
Last night I visited our home once more
but in my dream the house was greatly changed:
leaves lay, unswept, upon the bedroom floor,
the chairs, once orderly, were rearranged
as though a host of ghosts had gathered there
in heavy darkness to discuss the way
the space should be apportioned, how the air
should be imprinted with their foul decay.
I found myself transported in my sleep,
one moment to the stairway, then the bed
where, in those final hours, I’d watched you weep
to the old priest who sat with lowered head.
That was the day when I chose to depart.
Last night, in dreams, I came back for my heart.
For verse of a different kind, why not visit: https://www.facebook.com/richard.fleming.92102564/
No comments:
Post a Comment