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Bird Fly Away

We walked the windswept hair wildness

Stepping upon the swamp tussocks

Avoiding the slow-worm slow-warm

Sandal soaking rainbow water

 

Rain ran down her face, her laughing eyes

Her nose and into her smile

And I knew I must apologise

 

She had never asked much

She had not stood with hands on hips

Demanding more love than I could give

 

I looked at her, I looked

Deep into her dark pool eyes

And began to say, “I’m sorry…”

 

She shushed me with a finger to her lips

Pointed to a wheeling kite

Winging twisting cavorting hunting

 

“And that, (she said) is you.”


”I’m sorry for the time I said I love you

While on my way to the bed of another

I’m sorry for the fizzy water

That splashed in your face on the beach at Brid

 

I’m sorry for calling you my second choice

When you were fourth at best

I’m sorry for brow-beating you

For those few pounds I lent for cigarettes


I'm sorry that your marriage died

Through love for me I could not return

I’m sorry for spoiling your happy holiday memory

By saying I wish I spent it with another

 

I’m sorry for my sour words

When pressing the termination upon you

That I had to pay for

Of the baby you longed to mother

 

And the foreign scent and long black hairs on my pillow

And for the scratches you found on my back from another”

 

No reproving darked her features

Her warm-heart smile

Bridged the vastness between us

 

She pointed to a wheeling kite

Winging twisting cavorting hunting

 

“That is what you are.”

 

Stepping upon the swamp tussocks

Avoiding the slow-worm slow-warm

Sandal soaking rainbow water

She walked the windswept hair wildness away.

🌷(1)

◄ From Across The Street

About an Owl ►

Comments

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Rick Gammon

Fri 19th May 2017 07:15

Thanks, Ray, I will cherish your exoneration and carry it with me - however from your closing words you might just need mine ?

Thanks, Adriana, as I wrote it I felt as if I was walking on Top Witherns - very Heathcliffe ?

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raypool

Thu 18th May 2017 21:23

Rick you cruel and sensitive lovely bastard ! I found this very affecting I must say. It reads like a confessional and I for one as the priest must forgive you. A girl I once went out with said : "I get the feeling you're just going out with me 'til someone better comes along." I didn't disillusion her.

Ray

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