Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Precipitous

                                                                        Christian Harkness

EVERY PICTURE TELLS A STORY.


Rather heavy for me but the illustration attracted me.

PRECIPITOUS

If she had waited a while
She would have heard the telephone ringing.
She would have answered it.
 She would have heard his voice.

But she did not wait!
She could not wait.
Not one more moment of waiting could she endure.

It had gone on too long.
The hurt.
The emptiness.
The pain.

She would end it.

Taking the overdose was easy.
Too easy.
The tablets slipped down her throat
Without hindrance.
She desired them so completely.

Sleeping was easy too.
She slept.
She died.

And, as her spirit emerged
From her body

The telephone rang.

4 comments:

anthonynorth said...

Much darker than your usual posts, but you did it very well - especially the irony at the end.

SandyCarlson said...

That one knocked the wind out of me. That is a portrait of despair turned to resignation. There is peace in it, somehow.

Linda - Nickers and Ink said...

Wow!

I was SO not expecting that from you.

You got me.

Well done.

Linda

Kat said...

Such a tender poem...

read somewhere... the impatient bird leaves early (instead of waiting)