It’s unexpected, this picture of you. Your back – wider than I remembered,
all straight lines
like a cardboard box
from shoulder to hip
next to the unfinished
one of our son.
Four shoulders r d to a task,
of bone, raising
pallid Dutch skin.
It’s a frame by frame picture
silent but for the tck, tck, tck, in my head
minute reels p……u……l……l……i…….n……g to the next scene.
tilts to watch yours, level with his as you rise.
He reaches his length before you.
his head bent,
I see my own lips curl upward in his face, and a hand r
A stop signal.
i p e
A minute r p l
under your skin telegraphs awareness across your back,
his face over your shoulder, blue eyes holding my stare.
Gravel crunches under size 13 shoes, car door slams, seat hurls backwards.
It’s unexpected, this picture of you.
leads you away from my sight.
For information on ‘shape’ or ‘concrete’ poetry please visit the link below.
I Shared this at dVerse Poets Pub