Wednesday, October 01, 2008

Beyond Repair

You had to leave
In a stench
Of half spoken words
And a miasma of pain
We’re all moving
On and away
Taking turns
Around another corner
Packing those boxes
Again and again
Locking these doors so firmly
Posting keys, walking away.


aria said...

these words are full of longing.. I think most rending kind of war is not between two hatreds but between two hopes.. if you know what I mean.. and at the center of much of our trouble is a simple desire of 'home' but the right one perhaps is elusive..

Chris said...

The Greeks had this idea of a "miasma" of tragedy that would follow a whole family sometimes didn't they, until the Furies had tracked everyone down and killed them? Was it Oedipus and his lot, I forget?

It a good image, and one that you use well here in a slightly different context.