The Shadow of Lilith
By Silver Spun Sand
Wed, 12 Nov 2014
- 1563 reads
6 comments
Erase from my mind, endless afternoons
when mute silence – my sole reward for patience,
when I’d come to visit...endeavour to engage you...
make small-talk about me – as a child,
perhaps...
and you’d seem not to hear; pace the floor,
my eyes, trying to engage with yours – to make them
their home, as once it was.
I didn’t ask for much...we could have chatted
about the weather – meals you’d enjoyed, or otherwise;
something good you’d seen on TV... told me
that green suited me,
even that my cheeks looked a touch pale. Playfully
pinch one...maybe. Tell me to make sure I ate
that apple a day...Anything;
but no – it wasn’t to be. The last memory I have,
is you, looking out the window – a woman
I didn’t know from Adam, staring back,
and a man, outside, painting a fence
a darker shade of black.
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Comments
1 User voted this as great feedback
How sad, how difficult
How sad, how difficult visiting in that situation, just hoping more is appreciated than shows, like when someone is in a coma. It there are earlier happy memories I suppose one has to fix on them. I'm so thankful that at present, both my in-laws are getting easier to make contact with than has been, as their aging progresses very fast, despite communication difficulties. Rhiannon
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Excellent. God; between the
Excellent. God; between the two of us we've cornered the market in morose.
Very good pome.
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