from a distance
I thought I saw you on the hill.
A silhouette
leant to the wind.
Walking the November road
in slanting rain
thought it was you
but I was wrong again.
That message
in a bottle.
Who was it from?
Thought it looked familiar
yet the handwriting was changed.
Voice in the darkness,
hushed tones.
It sounded like you.
But the words were in a language
that neither of us knows.
It’s always from a distance.
I can never make you out.
I peer, screw up my eyes
or the sun blinds and
I can never see.
Who could it be?
I always think it’s you.
But it never is.
And that’s all I know
that’s true.
Amy Houston
Tue 21st Jun 2011 19:13
Beautiful and very moving writing.