Categories
Poetry 'n Prose

Nothing’s Changed

You still haunt me, as you did then,
As we wind back the clock,
Feeding the birds,
Talking to pigeons
Disregarding notions of emptiness

Love is insistent as logic, reliable as heartbeat
Obsessive as any anorak spotting train
On a cold Thursday morning,

Yet bound by your voice
That echoes an eternity.
I guessed you’d pick up echoes –
No one else could hear

This ground-bass to mourning
This hum below the surface where the angels play.
And above the swirling stars lights our beginnings,

We were hooked then,
And in the beginning,
Nothing’s changed.

By 67paintings

A dialectical site of poetry, painting and the odd musical excursion into the unknown.

2 replies on “Nothing’s Changed”

Could have sworn that I read the exact same poem on your blog earlier, but surprised that you’ve never posted it. =S

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s