POETRY

Singular, Longing For Plural (Cayja Vu Part 4)

 
Tamarinds and Casuarinas conspire
to sway me from this heaviness.
 
Pervasiveness
stealing from me
my breath,
leaving me,
just leaving me.
 
Cayman sunshine warms the wind
while wood chimes sing
to screaming parrots
masking the air with playful banter,
whilst my heart to pain submits.
 
How can something feel so right,
and yet still feel so wrong.
 
Tranquil conversations
belie the rip tides
beneath your push
and pull demeanor,
drowning me
in despair.
 
Never dreamed I would be alone
this far down the line,
still here I am
half way home,
you’re no longer mine;
 
singular longing for plural.
 
Copyright © Henri Ferguson 2003
All rights reserved.

By | 2012-03-28T14:21:00+00:00 March 28th, 2012|0 Comments

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