Prairie Meadows

I know I’m mad at you
I try to hide it
but, I know

Sitting here staring at the vacuum
of a blank page
“I’d fill it” I thought
if only I could though

There is a space here
in the void of silence
where a wake of waves has churned for miles
and down, down
in the bubbles
are our photographs, and our smiles

Suddenly, stop
I look up and over the balcony
across that parking lot
Where you had once, gifted me
and greeted many thoughts

high-heels and your milky thighs
sat in that foldout chair
a cigarette for summer afternoons
that hid a distant smile
you said you’d never wear

Now I only see an old man
wrestling a pinched up garden hose
spraying down his fire-red Coupé de Ville

I can see he loved her
I doubt she knows

© Emerys Watchel 2006, 2016 All rights reserved.


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