That last hour I spent with you
Passed in a flash of time.
I remember how the blue bruises on your throat
Stood in line against
The whiteness of your skin
Your lifeless, limp body
Light in my arms
As I kissed you farewell
For one last time.
This hour from five to six
Drags like a lifetime.
I watch the minutes
Jerk their electronic pauses
Across the clock face.
The warders ask if I want to play checkers?
I don`t want anything
Except for this long last night
To be over.
A contest entry
- Hour by Melissa Gayle.
300 points, ended April 26, 2007, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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Oh my! This is a dark one for you, my friend. The short hour being how quickly that last hour with your loved one, whom you have killed, flew by,,,and how long the last hour before your execution drags. You did an excellant job with this.
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Sounds like someone awaiting execution with those las words 'I don`t want anything Except for this long last night To be over'. I may have misinterpreted your meaning. However, holding a limp body and then the mention of warders....hmm, this could be a glimpse into another side of you.. (I will have to read more of your writings.)
Peace/Mia
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Sometimes I swear the clock makes minutes take decades, feels that way when grief has you in it's grip, tickling your pain with memories and loss...
Sounds like a long hour, I hope it passed, and there was light at the end.
Beautiful melancholy..
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I 'm inclined to interprate this as a prisoners execution pending piece. If I'm wrong,sorry. Yet it has this vein. And you've used great descriptivness in alluding the sorrow of it.As a last hour piece. It's excellent.
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suseann
Yes exactly that, the crime and the wait for execution. The short hours and the long ones.
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