“Who’s at the window?”
She asks of me.
I answer gently,
“No one there,
That I can see."
She stares for a long while,
In a far off daze.
“Go to the window and check
Anyway,” she repeats.
I walk over, still nothing…
That I recognize.
Puzzled look in her eyes…
Makes me think…
She thinks I lie.
She thinks I lie.
She talks with someone,
Who isn’t there…
I hold her hand as I
Whisper a prayer.
She reaches up only to grasp
Thin air…
Softly she smiles at the one
Softly she smiles at the one
Who isn’t there.
I feel no fear at this peculiar act.
I sense it’s the Angel,
Here
Here
To take her back.
© Leatherman 2012
Great work Brenda. I have to wonder, was there someone at the window?? Your poetry shines and improves with each verse. You truly are a poet!! Have a great day Brenda!
ReplyDeleteJohn,
ReplyDeleteI tweeked it a little to help others understand. Please re-read, I think it's better now.
Thanks so much for your input!It helps me a great deal!
Thank you for joining Poets United. I have added your blog to our blogroll so others can discover you and your wonderful poetry. Poets United is what you make of it so explore, comment often and it will lead to folks doing so in return. We look forward to visiting your blog and reading your poetry.
ReplyDeleteYour imagination is what fuels our community.
~ Robert Lloyd (Poets United)