Memory of a Stranger – Mitchell David Ring

This is why I can’t forget your face

because I see it everywhere. Everywhere

In city light constellations, empty windows

always lit by incandescent bulbs

which I can hear humming at that awful pitch

you’re there, and here I am in plain sight

but you never turn to look at me

In a siren wail through the night I hear your voice—

I never understand what you’re saying

but I always listen closely, hoping this time I might

Your breath is clearest in moments before dawn

a whispered revelation of some great truth

the kind that’s impossible to know until you’ve said it

and then it’s the simplest thing I’ve ever heard

but still there’s some new door open because of it

and like a fool I waited for your invitation

not realizing that the gold key you gave to me

was already stuck through my chest into my heart

Now I see your eyes in the streetlight glow

I hear your laugh in the only river through this city

and I feel some hand, maybe yours

invisible, extended, grasping, turning the key

and slowly winding the rusted gears of my heart

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Image by Pavlofox from Pixabay

Published by grumpygorman

I am a Social Worker by day and an artist/writer by night. I use the written word in an attempt to make sense of the secret worlds and dysfunctional dynamics that lurk beneath the facades of our daily interactions. I am not sure how my writing styles are characterized, nor am I overly concerned about it. I am immensely enthusiastic about music and often connect better with songs than I do people. I also have an intense appreciation for quality wines and whiskies, frequently consuming them in excess. I like things that smell good and struggle to manage the symptoms of a life-long relationship with depression. So, why "grumpygorman"? Spend some time here and find out...

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