Poem | ‘The remains’

How dim the light in the morning through the last brown leaves

And the look of the limbs curled inwards, slumped low

How soft the heater blows those long, solemn notes

Like the sound of a car scraping down an icy road, it goes

How the clock ticked, doling out scenes through my window pane

How little there was left, but how I longed for the remains

About pinklightsabre

Bill Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
This entry was posted in poetry, writing and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to Poem | ‘The remains’

  1. Beautiful tone with wishful hope to be shared by all

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Lovely. First poem I’ve read here.

    Liked by 1 person

    • pinklightsabre says:

      Thank you Jadi! I have more, problem is it’s harder to feel like they’re really complete, compared to normal slice of life posts. So be it, thanks for popping by. Nice to see you every Monday! Bill


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