Poetry of Issue #7        Page 53

Pieces Of A Movie

we were there in the end game
sitting in their black rented Bentley

i was the child who hated them
but my grief was not theirs

i am not what i wanted
i will never be that now
standing on my anger’s edge
in my black suit and tie
seeing how they fit it all together
in a place where the end of sky
touches sea
where it holds horizon down
into a red light waiting
for your memory to project

where i can see your beauty again
on the screen
i am there too
the child knocked down
by a wave
on a long forgotten beach

  John Silver