In the Last Light of the Evening

The leaves on the trees have become smudges, merely a backdrop I look right through. I see nothing. I see everything. Everything. You weren’t able to reach beyond the now into tomorrow. You stay in the past and try for today, but never tomorrow. It’s raining outside, smearing the hillside further. My blotchy pink cheeks are wet. Not from the rain, though. No, they are slick from the storm inside. The first rumble of thunder in the distance came the first time you turned your back. It’s all on me, baby, it’s just me. This is who I am, you said, denying my right to hold you while you were hurting. Your vow was: in health and in the good times, I am yours. When I am strong. But when the winds rose, you withered, folding in on yourself, refusing my hand, my arms, my love. Well now the thunder rolls on. The storm rages. And I will cry for us, alone.


tara caribou | ©2020

Read this and more in my poetry book, Four.

24 thoughts on “In the Last Light of the Evening

  1. I feel heart broken. I suppose reading this over again and once more again, maybe means I want to feel heartbroken. Maybe I wish I had some magic power to calm the turmoil of that storm. But I don’t have magic powers, I just have love.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I’ve missed you too, dear Tara of my heart. And word from you is never, ever an intrusion but ever and always a welcome gift. 😊💕
        Even now, my heart swells fit to burst with happiness, just for the simple joy of passing the time of day with you. In this moment I feel I’m right beside you, despite the endless miles.
        In my skies, a pale blue star shines.

        Liked by 1 person

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