Conversations (with Sylvia)


(wake up) not asleep, but reading,

(write) she sits the edge of my bed,

tilts her head, waits. silence. (think it

to know). Sylvia, i am tired.

(the write will you), but how,

(ask the sky). and she stays,

to feel, asking cry (I know). pulls

what i push down (inside rain),

closing windows on day (tumble words),

and in sleep of dark, my name, cloud

whisper, pen gripped unwritten (Sylvia),

fly, write us both home (again).ย 




19 thoughts on “Conversations (with Sylvia)

  1. So beautiful. It’s like a melancholy dream. Oh, what it must be like to have Sylvia for a muse.

    I love the last line. “fly, write us both home (again).”

  2. An engaging, deep and puzzling poem written in such fine and convincing style … but – if I may – line 5, er should that read
    “then write will you” ?
    Sorry to be pedantic.

  3. this is marvellous – I don’t meet many poems that make me slow down like this, especially not online/on-screen. Thank you for the ‘like’. Penny

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