It's Past Half One
It's past half one
and he still isn't home.
A chilly, moon-less night.
Why isn't he answering his phone?
Before he left,
he held me
and kissed me
longer than he usually does.
That look in his eyes!
"Will you stop worrying so much?"
He stooped on the creaky porch
to adjust his worn brown boots.
Then I watched him disappear
through the gate, down the hill.......
His usual route.
Two o'clock now.
"Where can he be?"
Out there, some where
cold, dark,windy.
Around the porch
autumn leaves flutter.
My hands are trembling
when under a dying potted plant
I discover a letter!
Ahmad Desai
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|
Name |
Comment |
Date |
|
Erna |
You have told a convincing story with
which I can identify – right up to the surprise ending it held my attention.
I was drawn in, the speaker’s feelings reflected by the descriptions of the
weather outside. Some suggestions: It's past half one he’s still not home. A chilly, moon-less night. Why doesn’t he answer his phone? He held me and kissed me longer than he usually does,
before he left. "Will you stop worrying so
much?" He stooped on the creaky porch, adjusted his worn brown boots. Then I watched him disappear through the gate, down the
hill. His usual route. Two o'clock now. Where can he be? Out there, some where. Around the porch autumn leaves flutter. I discover (my hands tremble) a letter under a dying potted plant. |
2007-05-25 |
|
Mandy |
Your poem held my attention. I
liked the 'dying potted plant' giving a hint of what was in the letter.
"Before he left he held me |
2007-11-10 |