Companionless
Loneliness…
The only seemingly comfortless home
Either of us had for so long.
No bigger than a matchbox,
Or at times
Vast as the heavens full of sparkling hope
With you as my sole roommate
Offering nary a flea bite of company
As you stare at me recalling the night
When a knock at the door drove fear to the surface.
Why do you bring that up now?
Loneliness was afraid to open the door,
But when blind courage prevailed,
There she stood
Wanting to borrow a candle,
And you stuttered and said
“I don’t have one.”
The two of you made eye contact
Avoiding the bleakness
Of two dark, one-room apartments
Yet unable to utter a word further
Shamefully turning your backs on each other
And stepping back
Into closed door isolation.
So it was,
Loneliness.
So it remained,
Stubborn as you were.
A new roommate has been long in coming,
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I love your poem, loneliness and all, Odin!
Love ya!
Jane
While hiding away in a studio apartment studying for my doctorate, the obese woman who moved in next door for the summer knocked on my door and asked me for some butter. I believe I had some to give her. But she suddenly apologized for all the noise a couple of nights before when she said, "I had some guys over and we played cards." Not from what I heard. ;-)
And in the process of telling me she told me that I had "hot hands." I'm sorry, but that encounter did not turn out to be any kind of relationship… Thank goodness!
Ron