Poem 304

This is another take on the subject matter of Poem 292, written years later and without the rhyme but the ache is still palpable …

Whiteness

A break in the intensity
of light
               on a wall
is you going now gone
a flicker and the whiteness
floods back
                        I stare at the ceiling
hoping to be as blank
as the 20th century
can stamp me out
but only a sky
without clouds
is really
featureless
                         I strain
for the bang
of your taxi door