Monday, October 4, 2010

This Week's Poem

An Aftermath

There is a car
exactly like mine
where I parked.

The key will not open.

There is a word she once said
I knew would change

I am afraid to remember.

There is a child
whose unseeing brown eyes
like me would perceive only silhouettes

and whose vanity would tremble
while releasing all he thought
he held.

He is the door I cannot enter.

-published by Wilderness House Literary Review

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