Widowed Without A Manual

Some of us grieve longer then others. I will not be rushed out of my love, that still inhabits my heart.

Time Is Running

3 Comments

Dear Fogo Island

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pale greys
blanket the sky
worn through patches
exposes the deep blue
of what could be

I see you
across the water
faded, alone
no one living in your home
your eyes show me sadness
no sparkle or reflection in your glass
I wish I could walk through your front door
bringing with me many days of more
washing you with love
exposing colours that once was
I see you

almost
I can reach across and touch you
there is tall grass
deep waters
wall of rocks
to climb
can you wait for me
will you survive another storm
wishing I could comfort you
to give you hope
to share with you my dreams
your chairs would be painted
the colours of the evening skies
your eyes would be bigger and brighter

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feeling
a knife tearing through my skin
reaching my heart
looking at you so far across the bay

View original post 114 more words

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Author: ilovecloudstoo

I live in Canada thought I was not born here. Newfoundland is where my heart breathes. Primarily I am a visual artist, welded and or cast bronze sculptures. Sylvia Plath may have been the seed planted in me that is creating poetry. Since then I have read so many great modern poets work. Art is my sustaining business poetry sustains my soul.

3 thoughts on “Time Is Running

  1. Love the artworks and adore the writing. Reminds me of Marisa Monte–the dance of solitude.

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