gathers no moss

Sixty miles from sleep
those lonely road voices
wage a war in his mind. Guilt
ebbed two cigarettes back
when parting words blurred
to a single white line, and raced
out into the gloam.

An old Stones shirt is all he left,
torn like the heart it now covers.
And somewhere back there
a girl sits alone, forsaking photos
and dreams; hates the way
his shirt makes her feel,
knows she’ll sleep in it
all the same.

Ryan Stone

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12 thoughts on “gathers no moss

  1. You chose gorgeous picture to go with an even better poem. The colours are muted and the picture gives off the painful guilty feelings you say this guy had in your poem. What fight. Feeling so guilty “two-cigarettes ago, why didn’t he turn around? It must have been such a horrible fight. I can picture it so well how you wrote. I guess I can empathize with the girl, not wanting to be reminded by photos or even memories, yet clutching his shirt and wearing it to bed, a comfort, and reminder of him, she won’t have again. Great job. I’m always hit by how thoughtful your poems are, in your interview as well this came through.

    Liked by 1 person

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