I Was Here

        
                           Despite the treacherous road and torturous climb, I was here.
                           Regardless darkness raining down pus and slime, I was here.
        
                           Things fit perfectly. Things meant their best. Things stayed on,
                           kept past quitting time. When we were in our prime, I was here.
        
                           Does throwing time we shared out with Monday morning trash
                           make you that deaf to death bell’s endless chime? I was here.
        
                           What once was my most enduring moment of loving kindness
                           in an instant turned into my most annoying crime: I was here.
        
                           Screw metaphor. I was here. To hell with form. Damn meter.
                           I was here. Who cares if it does or doesn’t rhyme. I was here.
        
                           Don’t take yourself so seriously, Cyn. Anyone who’s forgotten
                           my arrival will just as easily’ve missed the last time I was here.
        

        


prompted by Poetic Asides — 2013 November PAD Chapbook Challenge 3:
The Last Time I Was Here

Advertisements
This entry was posted in ghazal and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Comments welcome!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s