Literary Yard

Search for meaning


The Remington Series: No. 1 (Poem)

By: Charles X. Madruga


Drifting through dreams on her bed
she whispers a scene through my head
and I swear I should’ve died right then
when she said – something in my ear,
to be honest I didn’t hear a single word
it was blurred in a euphoric hum,
a melodic buzz – perhaps just music –
static sounds lapse,  losing to oblivion
lost in the middle of the in-between of seconds.

She lies alone in the night,
the moon moves through the blinds and finds
the champagne shade of her open eyes.
It’s broken and bright, as that side
of the world and the sigh of a girl
find their way into mine, a fateful demise –
longing before long,
what is here is now gone,
and the dawn’s song sings
a tune in a time after midnight.

Waiting in the winter is a bitter thing
until she and the spring bring things
of  light and love –
she loves the light,
and I love the way she does.

She loves the light.


Leave a Reply

Related Posts

%d bloggers like this: