Sunday, March 05, 2006

Gray Fading

I feel your touch, though
your hands I’ll never see again.
I taste your lips with
our mouths decades apart.
Your words framed in Winter breath, and
love-sparked shadows on candle-lit walls,
are dreams buried in a Polaroid
gray-fading like the ghost of you.

(Published in the February Issue of Quill & Parchment)

20 comments:

Anonymous said...

This one is so sad, but such a good write, Pat.

Catnapping said...

Sometimes I miss my husband so bad, I wish I could have died with him.

Beautifully written, Pat.

floots said...

it's already been said
this one made me feel so bad
that i felt good about it
excellent

Pat Paulk said...

Thanks AA!

Rebecca, I'm sorry. I'm honored that you added me to your links. Thanks for the compliment!

Floots, What a wonderful compliment, thank you!

eric l houck jr said...

sad. beautiful.

Pincushion said...

You've painted pain and given it form..so true..so beautiful!

Kinderling said...

This feels
like reaching
into fog.

I know the feeling.
love it.

oh, and thanks for stopping by my site!

polona said...

the saddness here is almost tangible. excellent!

Pat Paulk said...

Thanks Eric, Pincushion, Floating Soul, and Polona!

J. Andrew Lockhart said...

this is one of your best, I think --

Pris said...

What a wonderful painful poem. One that will stay with me.

Pat Paulk said...

Thanks Andrew and Pris!

Yemanja said...

This is a lovely poem Pat... :)

Pat Paulk said...

Yemanja, thank you! thanks for coming by, hope you'll come back!

Anonymous said...

Just beautiful.

Nick Zegarac said...

Gray fading like the ghost of you - haunting. Absolutely captures the essence of loss in a Polaroid. Gives irony to the old cliche "Take a picture! It lasts longer." Hmmmm....we'll see.

Neoma said...

I feel your touch, though
your hands I’ll never see
again


every night of my life...now....I go to bed, lay awake stare beyond my window into the darkness and think this very thought. Over and over......funny you should write something I only dare think about after the lights are out. I guess I am not so unique afterall.

Pat Paulk said...

Thanks Nick and Mandy!
Nea, I think we all are, and we all aren't.

bigshoulders said...

wow. i'm glad i made a trip over here today, Pat. i Love this poem. i've a few ghosts of my own i should properly put to paper, but i think secretly if i did that, they would be free (or i'd be free?) and i'm not sure i want that...

anyhow, beautiful poem.

b.s.

Unknown said...

Memories have such intensity at times. This poem beautifully illustrates this. I'm really enjoying your work, Pat. It's a pleasure to stop by and see what's new, even if I don't always have the time to comment.