You know me and my ghosts

In the bizarre way only someone

Nestled in the shadowy whistle-stops

Of life, clinging to the overhead straps,

Getting blisters and sores

From always holding me;

Balancing us both

While my sanity seeps through

Our scorched fingers, over and over

Knows me


Your forehead is perpetually smudgy

With the effort of trying to save me

But never

Never do you show a smidge

Of restlessness in your eyes.





16 thoughts on “LONG HELD GRACE

  1. me too Terri – glad you were able to stop by and that you were eventually able to realize the kind “you” in your life; they are worth everything, IMO – thanks for reading and commenting.

  2. I have a “you’ in my life….it took me about 25 years to realize it. (Such patience) Thank goodness he is tall I usually cannot reach the overhead straps in the whistle-stops of life. Glad I was able to stop by.

  3. I must confess,these words seemed meant for me … the poem just sort of wrote itself and yes, I am lucky enough to have someone this kind and wonderful in my life. Thank you all for coming here and reading, commenting and most of all, enjoying my words with me.

  4. Brilliant writing, Sharon! “Nestled in the shadowy whistle-stops of life” and “my sanity seeps through our scorched fingers, over and over” are such spectacular images!

  5. Beautifully wordled poem. It’s funny, but my poem seems to be coming from the “you” of your poem. Interesting how the same set of words took us to the same places but spoke to us in the voices of two different people.

If you're so inclined, I'd love to hear from you ...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s