Poem: Gone


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Pulled through the pulsing portal
Wondering what was waiting
At the other end

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Looking down upon fractured features
Moments from long ago
Broken bits of clutter
Carried carefully in bits of cloth

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The ever smiling creature
Who hung in a tree of home
Now sits atop the rubble
Like a wounded warrior

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Where are the days of familiar faces
Blooming colors from the bedroom window
That same street with whistling birds
And the perfectly painted sun
Falling on my quietly lapping lake
From long ago

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30 thoughts on “Poem: Gone

  1. Your quietly lapping lake and my majestic mountain long for us,I think, as much as we long for them. The portal, thank God, stays open. πŸŒ²πŸŒ…

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