(Soon to be a) Postcard
I remember
poetic mornings
Siamese anaesthetized
afternoons;
a cool red hat,
suits, wide newspapers-
colouring over crossword Junes
I remember
the dusks of dawning,
new born recognition in the
rooms;
a timeless stare
stilled conversation-
an iris' cage snared the bloom:
of things we should have said but didn't and words that never
kissed held or hurt the way we could have kissed held and
hurt
I remember that eternal yesterday of that eternal yesteryear
poetry dripping out of our suits and running along the morning
flickers of God and December in your sunglasses
But it's soon to be a postcard
a joke and a cliche'
at the realising
it's in the leaving
we arrive
to say goodbye to everythinig we took for granted & everything
we didn't
I will always remember the faces in pain
from sunburn and smiling
Please keep in mind that this is not the poem's actual layout. The actual layout is landscape- with the first two stanzas in huge print and one side (like the image of a postcard) and the rest of the poem on the otherside in smaller italic writing. I think it gives the poem a more innocent feeling and I would upload it but it's been lost off my computer- I've only got the hardcopy.
FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED.
