Gone

Soon you will be to me

absent as moon trees

distant as a lonely prayer on ancient lips

intangible as a strong forgotten taste

 

Like an improbable hypothesis

snatched from the breath of a wayward student

you will wing it into the theoretical landscape

shape shifting then

less now than nothing

leaving only dust motes and regret

to mark your passing.

Published by

Julia Dean-Richards

Julia is a writer and performer living in the Shropshire hills. Her writing is a product and expression of the love she has found whilst journeying through the most difficult times of her life.

8 thoughts on “Gone”

  1. WordPress is playing up and keeps logging me in as reiterzblog. You know me better as nobodysreadingme, or writersblogq. You follow me, so thanks for that.
    I really like this. Although nobodysreadingme.wordpress.com is a bit knockabout and deliberately tongue in cheek, if you poke around a bit in the Pages, not the Posts so much, you’ll find I spend a lot of time exploring betrayal, loss, the price people pay for falling in love or in hate.
    Again. I really like this. ‘Dust motes and regrets’ is pretty damned good if I may say so.
    I read this, then looked at some of the doggerel that people post on Facebook, those nauseatingly anodyne homilies, I know what i’d rather read.
    Funnily enough, I read widely and voraciously, but until recently hadn’t bothered with poetry. Audra over at unfetteredbs set me on this path, and I have now stumbled across someone else I like to read. Maybe there’s hope for me yet.

    1. Thank you for arriving here, ‘nobodysreadingme’. Poetry has always been my first language, but until blogging, there was limited scope for its expression outside of competitions. As I am not competitive and write to my own rhythms, aplaceforpoetry has been a gift. Like you, I would like to encourage people to delve – there are things in the back of this cave which may strike a chord. See you over at Audra’s place too. x

      1. Hey, it’s like playing doctors and nurses. You show me yours, I’ll show you mine
        That’s a joke.Old habits die hard in the world of nobodysreadingme
        I’m off caving right now
        Dunk

  2. Just got out of the cave. I had some real trouble with some of your work. Not because it’s crap, not at all. Just very very painful and raw, yet it never strays into anything resmbling adolescent angst
    I’ll go exploring again when I’ve had time to get my breath back
    Meanwhile if you need a bit of light relief, you know where my ramblings are. They seem to make even hardened cynics laugh. If people laugh, I’ve done my job well

please feel free to comment on these poems - all feedback appreciated. :)

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