Saturday Afternoon

He was born with searching eyes,

wrinkled and bruised, on a Saturday afternoon.

As the clock chimes, his curled fingers reach out and

they take him from what he knows.

***

Wrinkled and bruised, on a Saturday afternoon

he watches an endless white marshmallow sky;

they take him from what he knows,

their firm hands leading him on.

***

He watches an endless white marshmallow sky

His breath on the safety glass blurs the outside world.

Their firm hands leading him on,

head down, he shuffles past a collection of lost shells.

***

His breath on the safety glass blurs the outside world,

as longing crushes his chest.

Head down he shuffles past a collection of lost shells,

trying to overlook images that haunt him.

***

As longing crushes his chest

his feet drag. In the gloom he gets lost,

trying to overlook images that haunt him.

Etched in the past.

***

His feet drag. In the gloom he gets lost

by the bed. A picture – someone he knows

etched in the past;

loss whispers across the decades.

***

By the bed a picture, someone he knows.

As the clock chimes, his curled fingers reach out and

loss whispers across the decades.

He was born with searching eyes.

*******************************

If you’d like a definition of a Pantoum and an explanation on how to write your own – go here for more information.

 

 

2 Comments

There are two things I know for certain. One: Bert and Ernie are gay. Two: I want to hear your opinion.

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