Your spirit’s in the Whispers –
I can’t go there anymore –
it’s haunting all the places
where we went before,
the movies, the restaurants,
the sidewalks and liquor store.
I’m mute in all arias
I once used to score. Our friends are sore reminders
of those joyous days of yore
when we formed a pair of selves
combined at the core.
But now the twins are severed --
reminiscences, a bore –
locations, open wounds –
Whispers’ silence roars.
--Duane Vorhees
Lovely poem. The rhyme haunting. It's hard to say goodbyes.
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