This is a poem that I rewrote from my very first post. In its previous form I think it was a collection of images pasted together but not making a lot of sense. The second title was the good-bye man. I like this title more. ***Update- I’ve reworked this poem once again, giving it a new title and cutting some words. This poem is working like chipping out a sculpture.
Gone to Get Milk
Breath to a window, fogging the view,
reflections and grief clamor for attention.
Emotions like a choir inside four walls.
Ludicrious, brooding for hours, upon days.
Dull, damp moonlight ushers in dark clouds,
headlights draw near and pass
leaving no choice but to close the curtains.
Anonymity is a wreaking ball to wanting to be seen.
It has smashed the veranda of imagined futures.
The home, the family an illusion.
Doors close and they close.
Life goes on
passing like headlights flooding a room in brief light.