the puddle you plapped on through
were once a well e’er tranquil deep
still i spared your feelings sheer
tho’ none allowed me tend my own
were we running out of time
to cultivate me with you
or are you glad i’m gone now
to bare horizons me bestrewed
the inner guts of my skull
once a hill of bones replete
a place you called golgotha
now one through iris shone with hope
i fear we have had our time
to cultivate the me from you
must confess i’m gladness gone
to horizons tilled rain bestrewed
sometimes things don’t work out
once thought it ne’er would for me
& sometimes you have to leave
before the seed can dare to bloom
know there can be no more time
feel the inner guts of my will
gone to build me a new home
to far horizons hum bestrewed
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024
unbolt me 
Hi Tony,
Deep and evocative. Poetry has it’s own life that is unquenchable. Thanks,
Gary
Gary Avants Forbear Productions * *garyavants66@gmail.com garyavants66@gmail.com
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Thanks so much, Gary!
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You bet.
Gary Avants Forbear Productions * *garyavants66@gmail.com garyavants66@gmail.com
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I’m undecided whether this is a sad poem, a bittersweet poem or an oddly happy poem, but it makes me think of one or two exes I’ve waved my goodbyes to
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Actually, I think you have a good sense of it, Crispina. It’s all of those things as it’s about the unfortunate end of a relationship and moving on to new adventures anyplace else that might represent a kind of hope.
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Yep. And most of us have been there
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Nineteen’s century style works for you, Tony.
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Thank you, Dolly. I think I’m only just beginning to see it myself.
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