Array ( [sid] => 179949 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Some Day [time] => 2014-12-06 07:21:11 [hometext] => I wrote this for my sister. Some souls will never find peace. I hope she does. [bodytext] =>
Curtains no longer black,
form manifests from night's cloak
as your eyes find your way back
to another place; 'some day' before.
You had your patch of couch
in the dirty room of beer tabs and condoms-
some new, some used, some fresh from you,
and as dawn then as now gave form to
the patchy ceiling of flaked neglect,
you spoke into the quasi-light,
“Some day” before stumbling for the last warm beer.
That was thirty years ago-
dawn now fills out a bed, reveals even ceiling paint
and no cut feet on tabs,
but still you say “Some day.”
This willow wisp dances always just beyond
the peripheral life you think you could live
if this were that way,
if that were this way,
if the house (not a couch) weren't so small;
there is no having it all, this is it;
there is no 'some day'.
[comments] => 4 [counter] => 163 [topic] => 21 [informant] => Invierno [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Some Day


Some Day
Date: Saturday, 6th December 2014 @ 07:21:11 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: Invierno

Curtains no longer black,
form manifests from night's cloak
as your eyes find your way back
to another place; 'some day' before.
You had your patch of couch
in the dirty room of beer tabs and condoms-
some new, some used, some fresh from you,
and as dawn then as now gave form to
the patchy ceiling of flaked neglect,
you spoke into the quasi-light,
“Some day” before stumbling for the last warm beer.
That was thirty years ago-
dawn now fills out a bed, reveals even ceiling paint
and no cut feet on tabs,
but still you say “Some day.”
This willow wisp dances always just beyond
the peripheral life you think you could live
if this were that way,
if that were this way,
if the house (not a couch) weren't so small;
there is no having it all, this is it;
there is no 'some day'.


This poem is Copyright © Invierno


Important note: ALL POETRY ON THIS SITE IS COPYRIGHT.
If you wish to use any poem for any purpose, please either EMAIL Mick from
the sites feedback form, or go to the AUTHOR'S site and EMAIL the author for permission.
If you Email Mick for permission on any poem that is not his personal works,
he will endeavor to contact the author on your behalf.

This poem comes from Your Poetry Dot Com
https://www.your-poetry.com/

The URL for this poem is:
https://www.your-poetry.com/route.php?page=poetry/PoemDetail&story_id=179949