Monday, January 16, 2012

Atop The Pier

Your words bear a heavy tread
what else need you say -
that you haven’t said.

Crushingly, my pillow fills with tears.

Who are you to brandish me
a torn flag who flutters in the wind
or a symbol burned upon the ground.

I may be lost, but no longer counting fears.

Carelessly you domineer
tethering me –
you tie my hands,
so I may never feel the truth - of you.

Dump me in the river – wash my years.

What fool I am to you
these outstretched arms
to catch your casting stones
my pockets may be full –
but no longer do I feel the weight of you.

I used to feel the water - but now, I stand atop the pier.


  1. Wow, who are you? This piece says so much...

    1. Hello Madame Fassett :-)

      I loved your comment “Wow, who are you? This piece says so much...”

      Yes indeed, who am I? Is that not a soul searching question?

      I guess in the end the only answer I can give, is that I am “only me”. Unless, you’re looking for something more in-depth, in which case that would cost you a bottle of wine or two beers with a plate of nachos. Hope your well? Take care, David

  2. Replies
    1. My dear Anna; having no words – is this a good or a bad thing, or just is?