Stardust and Letters


It was the equivalence of one sided love – 

only one – feels your life was a figment of
imagination – although the taste of fear
when you left – as if you would never return – 
was a dagger of my own making.  

Too young to feel your pain since the mere 
existence of your laughter gave way to  
adventure – how could one grieve and giggle  
at the same time. 

You sprinkled me with stardust, and that too 
would fly away as I struggled to lift specs with
tiny fingers – to find a hiding place to store the day. 

Count sheep I heard as evening drew near – 
a shepherd brought gifts – held tightly to a long 
stick, his flock followed – but the sheep never 
came to visit while I slept.  

As darkness seemed to gobble up a room – I told
secrets while I whispered into feathers poking
through my pillow – I gave up counting sheep.   
I talked softly as I fell deeper into my own wound.

I wished to dream, show me a pasture – a world
beyond tears wiped onto a bare arm – 
or a nose pushed against a screen door. 

Each day I look into the eyes of the young – wonder   
if they hide fear and for how long – how does one 
distinguish from a grin from an authentic smile.

Now I am left as the keeper of a trunk – 
four times it crossed the mighty sea – I lift its’ lid 
to remove another stack of letters you tied in red ribbon – 
as if words would serve as proof, validate my fear –
I searched for reasons – why. 

Perhaps you weren’t really
there – and I imagined you?

Leave A Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish. Accept

Angie's Diary