The staccato sound jarred my thoughts
and I sat rigid in my chair,
a dream perhaps. it came again
abrupt and intruding.
My heart knocked. I opened the door
then drove it back and met
the ample bulge of your resistance
so I let you in.
You looked younger in wavy-black
cascading hair with drizzled grey.
The pain you bore was not now visible
on your face.
My fears vanished and we talked
as two familial friends,
though your head still lay
upon its stony pillow.
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Hey this is pretty good.. I am not sure I understand the stony pillow but I like it
ReplyDeleteThank you for your comment hockeyman. The poem, The Visitor, is actually about a dream I had about my mom after she passed away from cancer. The stony pillow just alludes to her gravestone, to the fact that she has passed away.
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