Sunday 7 February 2016

Finding Home





Dark bar, my bar, familiar.
Drink after drink
Footsie, fingers tangled
Drink after drink


He spoke my language
Of humour and heartbreak
Of resilience and soft corners
Of scraped knees and swimming

Lost in dusty roads
Among ancient barricades
Through bright speeding trains
And dark, twisted alleyways

What lit the night with magic,
Was it him or just the whiskey?
Couldn't wait, couldn't wait
Just kiss me already


Sentences spoken breathless
Catching up on decades missed
Brown eyes of honesty looked
Into me and knew my soul


I played a song upon his chest.
And he played one along my hip.
Their moods and melodies
Moved as if they were the same.


He left in the dark morning
No goodbyes or fanfare
But for the lingering touch
Of my fingers in his hair


"I hope you got home safe", I said
Wondering if he felt it too
"I'll see you again tomorrow," said he,
"I'm coming back home to you"





6 comments:

  1. That was just beautiful, Marita!

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  2. That is such a nice and heart touching piece of poetry. It reminds me of my husband when he left us for an year. It was indeed a very difficult time for me and the family.

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