The promise

You had promised under the tangerine setting sun
a return to my waiting arms on the last train home
after your restless, gallivanting days were done!

so every night I stood watching the cold bare tracks
never baulking at the wastrels skulking in the shadows
hoping the alcohol hazed promise wouldn’t recede under cracks!

like a mental afterimage that refuses to perish
I remained an incomplete, unfinished neglected poem
waiting endlessly for that final stanza with flourish!

I finally accept I had been deluding myself you were mine
scattering my corroded memories in the wake of the last train,
I take a deep, dispassionate look at the station, one last time.

What do you see # 63 – January 4, 21

73 thoughts on “The promise

  1. When the poem speaks for itself… Or the muse recalling the poet had deaf ears?
    So many promises lost to unused time that slipped about and vanished in sunsets along the rails. πŸ˜€

    Liked by 1 person

      1. yea, I really don’t understand why you haven’t got thousands more with your talent πŸ™‚
        maybe a few chapbooks will help spread your talent!

        Like

  2. Ah, how beautifully you capture the essence of a sigh at the end without so much as using the word! Beautiful things come to carry sadness for us after the witness of a false promise . . .

    Liked by 1 person

  3. A lovely, poem, Punam. “I remained an incomplete, unfinished neglected poem
    waiting endlessly for that final stanza with flourish!:” Such anticipation. Beautiful. πŸ™

    Liked by 1 person

  4. The poem touched me with the way you presented the image. Adore your writing style.
    Happy and Healthy New Year to You and Your loved ones.
    Have to read a lot of your posts. πŸ˜€

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Oh, such heartbreak! I, too, loved the image of the unfinished poem. I fear I have left many poems unfinished and alone on the train tracks of my writing journal…

    Liked by 1 person

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