in the darkening room
the color of the air was gray.
he was lost in the bed,
drowning in a sea of sheets
a gulliver snared in a mortal net of lines
a spiderweb of tangled silver hair forming
a damp mat across his forehead.
if your heart were a train
marking off the miles towards a vanishing point
infinity gray in the distance
it would sound like this, slowly ticking away
fading into silence.
1 comment:
After my mom died, those haunting persistent memories slowly became ways to keep her close & inside of my heart, instead of being hurtful.
He was blessed to be loved by such a lovely soul.
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