Thursday Poem: An Epitaph


An Epitaph

Words will always change things.
The event becomes language
then disappears behind
its mask of words.

We know only the words,
when everything else has gone
only the words remain.
You left me behind here

as you walked away.
All I had left to hold
were your words of farewell
and I never let them go.

I took them back home with me
and sat staring out the window,
towards the summer fields
we would walk together, back

when everything was hand-in-hand,
and I took out your last goodbye
still warm in the palm of my hand
just to be near you once again.

Published by David Hadley

A Bloke. Occasionally points at ducks.

3 thoughts on “Thursday Poem: An Epitaph

  1. An elegant poem, shattered words held tight onto an open palm. Reflects my own old work with the similar melancholic mood.SunsetBy Tatiana PahlenAll promises you've made for me, but failedTo lure to earth the revered loner-moon,that shone its light, when words were dim and faint,Firm sentiments turned numb on the abridged page,this cleared my brain so I could sort it through,chilling my fever showing the Milky Way.What can I do, when the sky is no more blueand cherished roses – our roses no longer red?And you, my friend, relive our last sunset:Two lonely heads together at the bay,where upon no words were moaned or said,We watched the waves and blithesome passersby . . .What can I do?You held my hand and kissed my salty hair;It was a bittersweet good-bye


  2. It's amazing how different voices could echo each other. Words are like butterflies, fragile if not elusive to tame. The beauty of it is to let them soar instead of keeping them prisoners. I posted your poem in my blog, which I used for cartoons before coming across your poem. You can see the link by going there. you for your kind comments on “salty hair.”Tatiana


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