image

photo credit: tolbert

it was there after all these years
the door, still bolted
the window, still nailed
the memory still haunting
the wall, still naked

morning was black and white
with a trace of orange in the pallid sky
reflected onto the stucco wall
as though tears had painted shades of rust
where she once stood
alone and afraid

plywood windows, weather-beaten
and painted barn-wood gray
by the stroke of time
cried in their silence
and time hid all wounds
behind the naked door

i wondered why i chose to visit
the pain of yesterday
knowing
i could still hear her weeping
wishing life would go away
it did

© 2012, tolbert. All rights reserved.

tolbert (24 Posts)

Born in Virginia and raised in North Carolina, I have Southern roots that were extracted when I lived close enough to Berkeley in the late sixties and early seventies to taste the influences of the pursuit of freedom. As a student at San Jose State University I watched William Kuntsler expound on the values of free speech and he offered more education in an hour, on the lawn by the baseball diamond than most professors gave in a full semester. Married for thirty years, I have two grown daughters and three grandkids,..and two Boston Terriers.


4 Comments

  1. Heart-wrenching, poignant, soul-aching in a description of a time that renders us weak-kneed in its pain. Tolbert, you are an incredible poet.

  2. Stark and sad and evocative, painting the wall with her tears. You made me see it, and feel it. I loved the way you ended it ~ and her.

  3. tolbert (Author)

    Thank you Melody and Cher…

  4. Anya

    You have a gift for tying imagery and emotion together so delicately and elegantly. :)

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