I am sitting on the brown bench
Outside the barn by the broken leaning door.
My suitcase, battered and ill-packed beside me.
I should be getting down the road,
It’s a long walk to Memphis,
And I don’t want to do it in the snow.
Never seems to work, the good times,
The laughs,
Walking through the rain with her,
Our hands clasped
One last time, and all that,
Her hair wet, the drops running down her cheeks.
They put the road through the valley,
But the creek always overflowed,
And made the mud worse.
So we skipped through the puddles,
As the moon rose,
How were we supposed to know,
It wouldn’t last?
It’s a couple miles to town
And the road is dusty now,
There’s a bus to take me to the highway,
I’ll catch it outside town
Just before the past,
At the bend in the road, near the mailbox
With the broken flag, and missing door,
The one that whistles in the wind,
Like an old jay, that stayed for the winter
And blended in the blue white storm
Of another empty dream,
I had,
With my suitcase in my hand.
Author notes
Option3: Someone running away.
Written August 12th, 2003
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1 - 11 of 11
-
everytime it doesnt last with someone for you, do you always dream about it? or do you dream about being with someone and it never lasts? it could go either way. this is a really great poem!!! good work.
-
Tyhis is amazing
So we skipped through the puddles,
As the moon rose,
How were we supposed to know,
It wouldn’t last?
my favorite lines. they create such a vivid image in my mind. An Image of a couple without a care in the world just enjoying being with each other, rain or not. This is a very great poem I like it alot thank you so much for sharing this.
Kelly Sue -
Wonderful!
"I should be getting down the road,
It’s a long walk to Memphis...,"
I have felt this..., and I am in Memphis right this moment,
it seems to draw you back into it's grip, this town...,
Your imagery touched a deep part in me
-
Perfect
I remember this one, too. And I remember how it touched me, as it is doing right now ... and I know your words are timeless and you are too and so am I -- we are the Poem.
no suitcase
can hold the tattered happiness
within the vault of love
Myra X -
oh this piece is so sentimental that i feel like crying!
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promising
quite liked this sad, lyrical poem with its sense of defeat and self-pity...
i wonder if it is a finished draft or an early draft...how much time did you spend on this poem? it seems a little clumsy at times, especially in the final stanza....but perhaps i've mis-read the tone, or the way you speak in your little part of the world...these things are difficult to judge on first readings...
its hard to know who are serious poets here at allpoetry & who do it as a hobby...i wonder which of these you are? -
at least you had a suitcase.... sorry......
If our hearts could only see the future.. would make things so much simpler and easy.... one must protect itself to what could cause harm later right? -
you could be a story writer or are you?
i'd love to read one if you are. its a long road to chattanooga too, for me! thanks
-jewels- -
Lute this is perhaps my new favorite of yours...that old Jay...I've seen him in these parts too, he sure does get around...this one I feel ....I feel.
-
'Just remember the good old days'
"Never seems to work, the good times..." this, is so clever...
Every word is significant, each concept you introduce could be analyzed, wonderfully deep heart wrenching poetry. -
Why am I crying?
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