A Pause In Slow Motion

By jvriesema
- 325 reads
You stand in the middle of my poem
followed by streetlights and city lights
that play notes of improvisational jazz in the absence of your smile.
Your words hover over the lines of a restaurant menu like a sprit board wandering over an alphabet
seeking answers to why you never chose to follow me,
to find me in the moment when tears shook my soul when you left;
your words, your eyes haunting the wind.
The comfort of you standing in an icelandic storm
was always there
when my footsteps would fall into the shadows of the snow;
uncertainty a word in a hesitation of emotion.
You stand in the middle of my midnight
when sleep escapes me
and the music strains from echoes of my compositions
over and over again like individual sighs against a midnight moon.
Silence falls like ice pellets against the window pane,
your world waiting to knit the next chapter into mine
as I boarded the plane bound for deserts and limitless skies.;
a pause in slow motion.
If music can knit the fabric of love,
and
tears can fathom the depths of loss
as
dreams light the streetlights of words spoken one by one
to
the place where you still fill the rooms within my heart,
my life on pause
as I go through the motions of conversations
upon everyday lights in the sky;
the kettle warming the cold of an afternoon thought;
then an echo is
a pause in slow motion.
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