Wednesday, September 1, 2010

au revoir

the smell of smoke?
is it as they say?
she can not tell

but my arm feels
the wisps of her
white, white hair

feathery there
where once dyed silver
we tried to curl together

a stroke of the white
a swab of gums
minty air mingles

with my lips
I press
my goodbye

6 comments:

  1. So touching, Kay. I've been in this exact situation several times. A great privilege and mystery. You have captured it beautifully here.

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  2. A lot of visual details infused with emotion.

    Nicely done.

    Chen-ou

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  3. Kay
    That poem was so sad.
    I popped over to thank you for your word wrangling because it made me laugh out loud. Now I'm in another place - and my partner is dragging me out to ASDA. See what I mean? A totally different place. ;)

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  4. Elaine,

    Thanks so much for stopping by. I hope the next place will be a peaceful one! :o) I'm glad I could make you laugh earlier.

    ~Kay

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