The Sky You Painted.


 

 

Upon rotten ledges and woods, your thirsty words became

 

doubted.

 

Yet still — we watched and waved, we blamed and waited.

The sky you’d painted fell,

tainted,

ruined by the night.

 

And as it attacked in blues and blacks, we listened and heard our breathing be clean and our smoking out –

 

The skin-soft breeze filled the air and lured the boats in.

 

They waited, watched and waved and halted.

We sang; and our feet were wet and our kisses salted – but then, from a sudden, far off… way away, in the distance,

a tugboat whistled.

Yet still.

We managed. You stayed afloat in shouts and flails; drowning in the whites of sails.

In a clamour,

soaked to your own heavy bones.

It was drunken and sobering.

My confidences bottled,

shattered and

failing.

But in the morning

The tides they came in, creeping, still -

still, and still.

 

 

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7 thoughts on “The Sky You Painted.

  1. Wow, that is amazing!

  2. Reblogged this on The Wit Continuum and commented:
    Deep beautiful words…

  3. Good one. Love the title.

  4. Bart Wolffe says:

    Enjoy the ebb and flow of the lines and resonances.

  5. Aamil says:

    Lovely poem! Very beautiful!

  6. Aamil says:

    Reblogged this on Here be thoughts and commented:
    Brilliant poem!

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