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Endings

by Alisa Js

it was there at the hanging
where it hung on the wall facing south,
keeping a beat there, swinging
the doorbell rang and she walked in
I carefully put down the phone,
listening...
and tried to remember verbatim
the exact words you spilled
the last time we spoke like this,
the only time anything made sense

04/30/2008

Posted on 05/01/2008
Copyright © 2025 Alisa Js

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 05/01/08 at 03:20 AM

Like a waking dream, I suppose. Nice work, man.

Posted by Keith McFarlane on 05/01/08 at 03:56 PM

This is a very pretty little picture -- good work!

Posted by Sandy M. Humphrey on 05/02/08 at 04:15 PM

A picture within a picture kind of, very interesting view. smh

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