Remember

There are shadows, which cast themselves
against pale backdrops
And Atheists make 24 their god.

In new homes, noodles are eaten cold. Flavorless.
A piano plays lightly, like water,
Like water that beats soft fingers against dirty windows.

Striking new flesh into the grime.

And there are Persian Princes who make
Young girls blush and softly mouth ‘hi’.

People live their lives between goodbyes
And hellos are always forgotten.
No one remembers the dawn.

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Rain at the Window

            A response by: Seamus. M. Murphy

 

Flesh becomes grime with the shadow at hand.

No one can remember Dawn’s rosy fingers

Or the time between good-bye &

Hello.  The meals alone are cold & thin.

These are the lonely hours.  The thornbush,

The exotic Persian Slipper, the flush

Of soft fingers & waiting to begin.

Autumn is here & the morning lingers.

 

 

Author's Note

I wrote Remember Sept 08. I'm inlove with the response by Seamus M. Murphy, so I posted it as well.