Cobwebs and old glass

My face in the old glass; cobwebs hung to
old memories, dust bitterly hugged
the sill. ….through it, i thought i heard you
whispering in the meadow where
shadows descended the steps of the soughing
twilight; i ascended the moon, the
night just to feel you breathe—i, wrenched and
sweaty, calm and cool now as i kissed
your eyes; i smelled the white flowers along the
whalebone sea, your reflection in a
tidal pool caressed my face. ….i sleep now, i
sleep long on the sills of dreams, my
face in the old glass—my fingers brushing away
the cobwebs just to hear you whispering.
Copyright © 10/06/2015 fishbonepoetry®
This entry was posted in Poetry.

2 comments on “Cobwebs and old glass

  1. This poem is so true to life, the images and the voice awakens even the cobwebs hanging and blowing in the wind. I can so relate to this writing – loved it!

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