Robert Walicki

The Moment

It’s like the moment someone reaches for your hand, but stops
short. Like the space between the tree branches, a piece of sky,
blue and visible.
And the wind was throwing things around.
This is how sound travels at night, how light
hits the objects in a room.
A glass bottle; green and fragmented—

You kept talking about
what it would take.

It’s like the moment when a bird flies
into a window.
As if air had turned into a wall
a wall without a window

It is like the space between the trees,
a light blue and visible.

This is what a hit sounds like.
You kept talking about
leaving, you said he was throwing things around.

and broken light was moving through the space between the trees.

You kept talking about what it would take,

It’s like the moment when a phone is thrown
into a window.

As if air had no sound,
as if a wall had no window.

It’s like the moment someone reaches for your hand
when light is thrown along the walls of a house.

a light, swirling and blue.

At night the sound travels, and a door opens,
and someone reaches for your arm

and says “come with us ma’am”

And you do.

 

Copyright © Robert Walicki, 2013
Robert Walicki, a freelance poet , has found inspiration through writing and poetry over the years. When he’s not writing, he keeps busy organizing the chaos of creation daily with his wife Lynne and two cats, Buttons and Josie.

 

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About sunnydunny

Poet, publisher, gardener
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