holding out at the window 

October 30, 2015 § Leave a comment

she was there
when it had come down

to doing nothing but

keeping watch as

shadows stalked shadows

across an empty yard
until they dissolved like ice

in gin and all she wished

was to feel,

just once,

as light as she imagined

her ashes would someday be
straining to locate

jasmine and rose somewhere 

in the bluish grey 

as twilight conned the eye

with its monochromatic palette
holding out 

           though nearly convinced 

they’d never

existed at all
(c) 2015 Fred Whitehead 

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