fermata

unintended measures of rests
counted off between us
waiting
for someone to speak

tires on the pavement
slushy soft-shoe
embodying
our silence with more weight

black birds on the wires
sprinkled notes on a staff
dissonant
if they could be heard

headlights never quite reaching
close enough to the horizon
to gauge
how far we are to the end

9 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Ray Sharp
    Jan 13, 2016 @ 18:05:23

    a beautiful sadness

    Reply

  2. Ray Sharp
    Jan 13, 2016 @ 18:10:01

    the third line of each stanza is a kind of caesura (fermata in a musical score) that makes the reader pause, creates great (intended) tension

    Reply

  3. sustainabilitea
    Jan 13, 2016 @ 20:17:09

    Beautiful sad and lovely form! I’ve missed you and your poetry.

    janet

    Reply

  4. whimsygizmo
    Jan 14, 2016 @ 03:47:46

    This is just lovely:
    “black birds on the wires
    sprinkled notes on a staff”

    Reply

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