From Daisy Hill to San Francisco

Cherry

By ralph

Sun, 28 Jul 2013
  • 869 reads
6 comments
 

I wait.
In the rain,
at the top of the hill.

But no view,
no words,
nothing
of you.

Today.

I walk,
a cafe.
Steamed graffiti windows,
fried egg
stained
racing papers.

I drink sweet tea,
chew toast.
Margarine minds,
soaked strangers.

They come,
and go.

Later.
In my bare bulbed room.
I draw open the window.

The crack,
sizzle,
of the tram wires,
bring you back home.

To those other rain towns,
of long ago.

Certificate U
Poem
Unclassified

Comments

Submitted by scratch on
I really admire the way you put these together ralph. The sparsity of the structure and the no-nonsense word choice take us into your introspective psyche. That coupled with keen image creation makes for really captivating poetry. As usual, a pleasure to read.

 

Submitted by Bee on
There is a strong atmospheric and emotional effect in the brevity of words. For me, you capture that feeling of endlessly waiting for something you know in your heart isn't going to happen. The rain only adds to the dreary mood of hopelessness, and the punctuation makes it seem quite choppy, like thoughts, one being unintentionally added on to the next. Hope what I have tried to say comes across as I intended, because I really like this poem. Bee.
Bee

Submitted by ralph on
Thank you both.

 

Submitted by ralph on
Thank you both.

 

Submitted by Mark Heathcote on
Nice poem Ralph I enjoyed this read.

Mark Heathcote

Submitted by UndercoverJulietta on
I love this! "no view, no words, nothing of you" so sad and so poignant.