This Was Our House

finally a new poem!!

This was our house

But I’m no longer there,

I recognize the steps very well

The way in,

I remember the warmth and

I feel your perfume in the air

The scent of jasmine over the entry but now

A trail of dead flowers and

Glasses with the last drops of sherry.

The same weak light in the kitchen and

The table, centuries old oak, uneven and

Covered with bread crumbs and

The remnants of our repeated debates

I remember the floorboards there, old and wide

Their noise as I tried to leave again and again.

I recognize the steps very well.

The way out,

I fell down them once in a night of rage

And you picked me up and took me in and I told you

What I haven’t lost, I’ve destroyed

You told me that feelings don’t work like that and

That can’t be a part of your life.

I think of you with anger sometimes but

In my pain I think of him more

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this reminds me of my second ex....we are still friends...she talks about how she thinks we should have stayed married, and would have had she not been so angry back then...angry at men in general...and i was the one there at the time...took her in, loved her, and as she could she loved me back...but the anger overrode any of the good feelings...i understand this poem in some way, very strongly. it speaks to me.

j.

[daninstockholm]

This is the job of poetry, isn't it? To present life in ways that make the reader reflect. I am honored that you've done that to one of my works. Thank you so very much for this!