Feel it: like stitches on tattered clothing,

Shadows shaped in a mind,
Touched by a hand, empty, empty, hole
In an old coat; hanging on a hook,
Pawing at the wind, stiff and naked.

Flickering light a hope in a single file,
Trespassing blindly, dissolving into sorrow,
Scratching at a door. Elsewhere a memory,
Might please, might bring a tear.

A smile like a moon, flattened to a face,
Stiff, but not a bad fit. Now your eyes,
Crying, crying, then empty as a cloud, the
Air stirs in a temper, happiness, anger.

The obsolete yesterday, please a collector,
Blindly into an old pocket, quietly,
Leave it alone now. You have a hole,
You have an image, no one will look there.

Copyright © 05/09/18 lance sheridan®


6 comments on “Yesterday

  1. Barbara says:

    Oh my Lance – I’ve been digging through piles of e-mail’s from my 2 weeks get-a-way & just found this beauty. The images are raw and this reader felt the reality of each image imbed in her soul; WOW Lance – each of your writings are magnificent & every time I say, “How can he write another like this one & you come up with fine tuned poetry that touches the soul. You’ve ACED another. Barb 🙂

  2. The only problem w/ your poems is that they are all so good. I cannot possibly choose a favorite.

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