This Picture of You ( A Shape Poem)

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.

            n

           u                               d

        o                                                    e

Four shoulders r                                                                     d to a task,

                 Sharp

                  triangles

                  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.

.

My

        h

                  e

                              a

                                        d

tilts to watch yours, level with his as you rise.

                                                                           He reaches his length before you.

                                                                           T

                                                                                 u

                                                                                       r

                                                                                            n

                                                                                        i

                                                                                   n

                                                                               g

                                                                        his head bent,

                                                                                                            s.

                                                                                                                e

                                                                                                        s

                                                                                                i

I see my own lips curl upward in his face, and a hand r

A stop signal.

Acknowledgement.

                                           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.

Adjustment.

It’s unexpected, this picture of you.

Your back,

rigid,

e

r

e

c

t

leads you away from my sight.

*****

For information on ‘shape’ or ‘concrete’ poetry please visit the link below.

Concrete or Shape poetry.

I Shared this at dVerse Poets Pub

FormForAll – Etherees, Shape & Concrete Poems