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Away from You

Suzanne Edgar

Nov 01 2011

1 mins

Watching on the platform for a train
I notice from the corner of an eye
the man with a slender back, in a blue shirt,
head and shoulders above the jostling crowd.
For half a second I think it might be you
whose form is so imprinted on my brain,
so wanted by my eyes and ears, my skin,
that when we are apart it stays with me.
Your image is renewed when I come home
and saved for solace in the time ahead
when I cannot expect to see your face
or feel your body’s warmth within our bed.
For then, a stranger passing in the street
who seems to have your walk, so straight and tall,
will haunt me with the thought of all I’ve lost
and leave me staring like a homeless waif.
 

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