“You’re beautiful.”

I dig my toes into the snow
trying to remember
how to feel.

“You’re beautiful.”

Every word registers
but doesn’t retain.
I’ve never been a believer.

I dig my toes into the sand
trying to recall
if this was ever real.

“You’re beautiful.”

Every word registers
and I refrain.
I’ve never been a believer.

I toss a flower at your grave and I
wonder how we got here.
All those lost years.
I could have been better.
I could have let you in.

I dig my toes into the soil.
All your words now register; retain.
It was always real.

“You’re beautiful,” the wind whispers…

Thank you.

M.

Poetry

Mandy Joy Poole View All →

Writer and photographer from remote Labrador, Canada. Just another cold Labradorian chillin' in the Big Land. Can most likely be found walking my dog Grace or behind an iMac screen slowly taking over the interwebs.

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