Everyday poems

A site to share poetry

This week’s poem is a muse on certain words and misunderstandings, open to interpretation…

You’re not here

I call – it’s the wrong day

I looked the wrong way

You’re not here, things disappear

Biscuit in hot water

I ring – it’s the wrong floor

I tried the wrong door

You’re not here, you’re nowhere near

Smoke up a chimney

I search – it’s the wrong track

There is no way back

You’re not here, the view’s unclear

Mist on moonlit water

I knock – it’s the wrong place

Just a blank face

You’re not here, black buds of fear

Soil falling on a coffin

Birthe Kirk on June 18, 2013 at 15:49 said:

ThIt is very special. It leaves you with a strange empty feeling. Anne,s comments expreses that feeling very well.

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else kirk on June 14, 2013 at 08:10 said:

eek! i was not expecting the coffin ending!

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- Anne Kirk on June 14, 2013 at 12:06 said:
  
  I think the coffin ending was just right…existentialism…meaning of life and death or lack of meaning.
  
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Anne Kirk on June 14, 2013 at 06:05 said:

Måske også den fornemmelse alvorligt syge kan have…når de vil gribe ud efter livet!

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Anne Kirk on June 14, 2013 at 06:03 said:

Den er super….fanger fornemmelse af når ting bare forsvinder mellem hændere på os, som når vi jager luftkasteller i drømme!

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