By Iquanyin Moon, for One Shoot Sunday.
I cannot see you anymore.
It ends in solitude,
The salient serration of your survival
Severed all trace of tactile touch—
I reached for you and you recoiled till
Whispers on the lovers’ trail
Turned it all to desert and to dust—
You went alone into the waste.
You are naked to me,
Wind-blown wraith wreathed in
Dust—blow, ye wind blow, for you
Are nothing, breaths and breathing
Touch upon the earth and fade away—
Just footsteps sifting in the sand
Time covers all.
*This poem is a response to the latest of One Stop Poetry’s Sunday Picture Prompt challenges. This week’s featured picture was provided by i-Phoneographer Iquanyin Moon, who I interviewed for this week’s One Shoot Sunday. Check out her wonderful work, her insights, and some great poetry…