A Sense of Loss
Oh, Dear.
Where have you gone,
can you not see me,
hear me, feel me near?
Why are you so still,
so very quiet,
unlike you, like this?
Oh fear,
something is amiss, Dear.
I cannot see, touch, nor hear,
just sense cold, an absence,
you’re no longer here.
I don’t know what to do,
but I cannot stay,
like this, without you.
Oh dear.
✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥
I don’t often try poetry, but when I saw this image, Woman with Long Hair by Man Ray (1929), and read my friend Björn Rudberg’s (real poet) poem RAPUNZEL’S MIRANDA… I knew I wanted to try something. The old photograph immediately reminded me of Graceland Cemetery in Chicago, a deep sadness came over me and I felt a sense of loss.
So, here’s my entry for Kerry O’Conner’s Real Toads ~ Camera Flash!
SAILING
SAILING… a Drabble for FriFic
A telephone rings…
“Hi, Cheryl. Want to go sailing?”
“Are you crazy! You know I get seasick, Ethel. Who did you snooker into taking you out on the lake?”
“Not sailing sailing, silly, garage sailing.”
“What the hell is ‘garage sailing’?
“It’s when you go to garage sales looking for cool stuff.”
“Oh, right. Remember your antique-vase-phase? The last thing I want to do is follow you around while you search through other people’s worthless crap looking for something you can’t do without.”
“Well, I thought it would be fun. Hey, remember the vase I got you?”
“Okay, I did need that one.”
⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️
Thanks to Sarah Ann Hall for lending this photo of her antique-vase-phase to Friday Fictioneers for this week’s prompt.