woke
under an avalanche pouring down time
on a well worn head, foggy
life: inevitable waiting
mysterious brown washing out ~~~
on a glass sea set on its side
inside it’s shapely bubble
. . .slipping through
I lay at the bottom
remember you
on our beach
fire glowing ~~~ warmth of two souls
now darkness
fading
you woke before me
now, no vigor left for deeper diving
the last granule could fall
into this anticipant void ~~~
i’m not ready
but everything is wonderful
if you’re asking how did it get so late so soon?
we could tilt this bubble back
I’d show you what we missed ~~~
read to you from my notebook
wake slowly
my love.
How many lines was that? 29 What the hell do you call that god-forsaken poetry style? free verse
I did make a Nicholas Sparks reference, if ever so slightly.
Personally, I feel I’m trapped in a bubble of time — lock into one memory and make it play out forever, nearing the end of the vinyl record. Our glass or snow globe, shaken.
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