Another sestina, for all you poetry freaks out there who I KNOW just love odd forms...a big kiss to anyone who can tell me what the form consists of.
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The autumn sun pierces through the curtains
and I struggle with the time difference.
Was that same light falling
through your curtains as I lay awake last night?
Did it cast the same shadows
on your lips as it casts on my hands?
My hands,
holding your picture as I long again to pull close your curtains,
to dance softly in the shadow
of your body. But it makes no difference,
night
is falling,
and I havent fallen
asleep in days. Your hands,
so soft in my dream again tonight.
I raise the curtain
on another night's performance, but the difference
between the shadows
that walk along the stage, our shadows
falling
through the pools of light, the difference
between our outstretched hands
makes it obvious that the curtain
will close before we can finish our act tonight.
Will this night
bring another shadow
to dance with yours, under the moonlit curtains?
Or will you fall
back into my hands
some day when the differences
that keep us apart are no greater than the differences
that kept us together all those nights?
My hands,
outstretched above me playing with the shadows
cast from the moonlight falling
in through the curtains,
reach out through my dreams on another fall night
for your hand to guide me in through your curtains
in that different land where your shadow dances.
-------------------------------------
The autumn sun pierces through the curtains
and I struggle with the time difference.
Was that same light falling
through your curtains as I lay awake last night?
Did it cast the same shadows
on your lips as it casts on my hands?
My hands,
holding your picture as I long again to pull close your curtains,
to dance softly in the shadow
of your body. But it makes no difference,
night
is falling,
and I havent fallen
asleep in days. Your hands,
so soft in my dream again tonight.
I raise the curtain
on another night's performance, but the difference
between the shadows
that walk along the stage, our shadows
falling
through the pools of light, the difference
between our outstretched hands
makes it obvious that the curtain
will close before we can finish our act tonight.
Will this night
bring another shadow
to dance with yours, under the moonlit curtains?
Or will you fall
back into my hands
some day when the differences
that keep us apart are no greater than the differences
that kept us together all those nights?
My hands,
outstretched above me playing with the shadows
cast from the moonlight falling
in through the curtains,
reach out through my dreams on another fall night
for your hand to guide me in through your curtains
in that different land where your shadow dances.
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
Where does one find the time to write such things when one is hooked on chat?