Residual Haunting

 

There are these times of the year

that hunt and haunt my soul.

If I am undistracted – unaccompanied

then I become unexpectedly – unnerved.

 

Whispers on the breeze I cannot hear

catchlights in eyes I cannot see

memories of you I can no longer feel.

 

You are only 10 miles away

out of my life –

but no distance away

from this

residual haunting.

 

© Katypoetess 2015

 

Ezzelin and Meduna

 

 

 

 

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