Guest poem sent in by Hemant Mohapatra
(Poem #1960) The Day Flies Off Without Me
The planes bound for all points everywhere etch lines on my office window. From the top floor London recedes in all directions, and beyond: the world with its teeming hearts. I am still, you move, I am a point of reference on a map; I am at zero meridian as you consume the longitudes. The pact we made to read our farewells exactly at two in the afternoon with you in the air holds me like a heavy winter coat. Your unopened letter is in my pocket, beating.
I love the quiet strength of this powerful piece. It speaks volumes about an unrequited love in a way that is neither sappy, nor reflective. It just "is" and seems to convey "This is how it is, and that is so". Every once in a while, a poet creates something so heartfelt that all his/her other poems pale in comparison. This is one of those pieces. 'nuff said. Hemant [Links] Biography: [broken link] http://uk.poetryinternationalweb.org/piw_cms/cms/cms_module/index.php?obj_id=6964