The whistle screams the hour for you to go.
There’s one last word to whisper, here, to you.
Your tears well up in eyes so sad and low.
My leaden heart stops, short, my every move.
I breathe a shiv’ry breath and take your hand,
while waves of mem’ries squeeze my heavy heart.
I realize the glass is out of sand,
And hurt to know that soon we’ll be apart.
A choice you made I know, it’s best for both,
but three whole thousand miles you’ll be from me.
Change and growth are certain on both coasts,
but I don’t want you growing up without me.
My word is love, for you now, just in time.
Though my home is here, my heart is at your side…
© L. Rose (1988)
This came out of a combination of a request from someone for a poem (which is really hard to do, if you’ve never tried it), and an exercise in composing a sonnet. I was pleased with the effort, but the requester – eh – Oh well.
As always, I welcome your feedback and comments. Thanks for reading! ~ Linda