This poem is presented in its rough draft form for the PAD 2023 challenge and will be revised.
“Back Home”
So this is what goodbye taste like, saline mixed
with what could have been. My eyes water, transfixed
by the way the sky is turning blue. It won’t fix
the darkness of questions that sit in my throat,
scratching my palate with history’s dust motes
stirred when we went searching for life’s anecdote.
Pictures of your love story, faded, vintage
moments of youth. Smiles, with salted glass ridges.
Photos of life lived, now a waning image.
We let laughter fall between the tears we share
with the knowledge that too soon one of these chairs
will be empty. We swallow tomorrow’s prayer.
Poetic Form: Stornello
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