What if you were to come tomorrow,
Surely I would spot you across the seething
Glass emptiness, reach for your tired
Face and bury my head in your neck,
And surely the silence between us
Would drop amidst the bygones
Floating in this chalice
Fluttering to the falling sand –
That has been –
And surely the creaks of the opened doors
And shutters would be a welcome relief
as when the sheets are thrown off
and the shafts of light claim
the settling dust.
And surely, surely --
This folly --
Oh how it hurts to breathe
Before the plexus strikes
a thousand ice shards
through the nerves
in waiting –
I get lots of nice images, trapped in glass, time, sand, light hitting dust, it conjures up a story within an hour glass, hidden, like hidden pain, then the light hits the falling sand and makes you feel that surely one day you might understand..
Last stanza lost me a bit, felt less powerful than the rest, perhaps not in imagery but originality, overall I enjoyed it, could associate with it quite well.