He’s still sitting at the counter when the waiter dimmed the light
and in the room’s warm twilight his eyes are shining bright
they look beyond the rim of an emptied glass of wine
not seeing what they long to see in the foggy realm of time.
When shall we friends meet again,
in thunder, lightning, or in rain?
The pub is closed, the guests are gone
and he’s still longing for another one
to kill farewell’s taste below his tongue
- not bitter, not sweet. Just saying: “They are gone.”
And it’s all over now
With heavy steps he stumbles to the door
scratching with his trainers over all too sticky floor.
The last embrace’s lying on his heart
too many would-haves in his mind are stopping each new start.
Nothing is more bitter-sweet than to say good-bye
when all the songs are sung and the glasses remain dry.
Franz (23.1.09 17:04)
My dear big brother,
to read these lines brings tears to my eyes. You have an incredible strong smooth way to touch people's hearts. Thank you for that.
Your little sister
younghamlet86 (26.1.09 00:06)
thank you for your nice feedback... it's good to know that the poem achieved what it was made for - even though i didn't want to make you cry, dear little sister ;-)