Last Time You Said My Name

January 08, 2023

 

Leaf on FernLeaf on FernA maple leaf with dew or rain sits on a fern in the early morning. One of those Vermont hikes that I love so much.

Last Time You Said My Name

The last time you said my name

You were wrapped in a waking dream

Your eyes were opened shut

Your mouth playing with words that sounded silent

 

The last time you said my name

I saw you from afar

You were prompted over and over again

Until something issued forth from your lips

Something I did not hear because I got distracted

 

The last time you said my name

It was winter, and all the memories of summer

Had turned a pale white, and only the blue in your eyes

Broke through that bleached countenance

Like a robin’s egg

 

The last time you said my name

I felt the pain I had been feeling disappear

Like the smell of a birthday cake

Or a trip to Florida on a cold Connecticut day

 

 


 

 


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