Tanka 4.9

Alone near midnight

I curl my body into

a single half-moon

that once wrapped concentrically

around the half-moon of you

Missing my connection

circling in midair
waiting for clearance to land
trapped between sky and ground
without purchase
on either
while others above and below
continue on
to finish their journey

like the man
sentenced to having no country
always at sea
never touching the edges
of something
you want to call your own

we reach out each time
passing by, stretching
to just brush fingertips
never quite enough
to clasp hands,
to grab on,
to stay.

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facets of regret

watching the barn door shut

upon the horses’ tails,
wishing for water
once the well has run dry

chocolate saved too long

until bitter on the tongue,
the acrid scent of milk
several days past its due

saying goodbye in the rain

and walking away,

only to spend your days
looking back

combustible

campfire smoke
wafts across my face –
gazing pensively into the fire
wishing for the one
who taught me to burn

when you knew what I thought

I wrote you a letter,
black ink on white paper
words flowing smoothly across the page

and asked
how you were doing;
said I was fine.

Sealed and sent on its way
no closure, just my name, hoping
that the empty, white space

would convey the words
that after all this time
I still cannot say.

phantom limbs

Stealing from Edward’s blog title – http://oldbrokebones.com/

my body reminisces of
the ache of your absence
marrow-deep
throughout the missing segments
in my once broken bones