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Plam Pluk
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Gabriela Tridente
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What Remains of the Day
by Paulette Weaver
copyright 12-08-2001


Age Rating: 10 to 127

 
What remains of the day
is what I see as I
close my eyes, a
negative in the
corner of my
soul.

My cries egress in an
effusion of tears
aware of what
can never
be.

The breeze whispers goodbye
as I remember the words
of what we didn't
say.

Hold on to a distant shore
as I take my life before
me and sail where I
will find the
casting off.

I sail alone, as I wander
aimlessly, to think of
what might have been
in the remains of
the day.



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Comments on this Article/Poem:
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12-09-2001 Farrah Tate    

This poem is very beautiful and touching, a lament that speaks to mine own heart.
12-08-2001 Jackie Moranty    

Excellent, Paulette. This one really spoke from your heart. An absolutely beautiful write. The form was great, too. I like the way it kind of looks like it's trickling down, sort of like time through an hour glass. Nicely done! Jackie
Visitor Reads: 279
Total Reads: 327
Comments: 2

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