Two figures
from the painting,
It’s You, by Caitlin Schwerin
Greyed, two figures
walk out of the frame,
across the frayed writing,
their history fading behind.
They stroll through a meadow
into a gold haze.
The large figure tilts his head
as if listening.
It’s not the companion’s
voice he hears.
His ears catch
the sound of the sun.
Feet skimming lush green grass
they wander into their new world,
sun behind their shoulders
warming their gaunt forms,
their long bones.
The writing, the writing,
the story of lives
left behind.
They amble,
arms empty,
faces blank,
out of the jumble of their broken lives
forward
propelled by the sun.
Published in Medusa’s
Kitchen, 2008
Check out this volume: http://sh.st/YoOpi the best poem in my live <3
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