The place I used to visit,
On bad days,
With yoghurt and spoon,
Is vacant.
The leaves are raked,
Into a neat pile,
By the bench,
And except for the newspaper,
Blowing about in the wind,
There is no-one here.
The river beyond,
Is a murky brown,
Same as it’s always been,
But,
Over the concrete wall,
On the sandy bank,
Is a briefcase.
Is it yours?
My name is Henry,
And I’ve been disappearing for years.
I can’t seem to find my way home.
♦photo – webstockpro.com♦
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evocative short poetry – words move
Hello K, thanks for your comment on my blog and your link. I’ll return the favor.
This is a special poem here, ‘My Name is Henry’. thanks. I like your Dundee poem too – it’s a place I’ve passed through many times.
If you’d like to visit me again try The Lost Island:
http://lightonthepage.com/enlightenment/lost-island/
I like how this could have meaning on so many different levels. An onimous feel to it as well which I personally enjoy in poetry
thanks for visiting my blog this week.
The last line of the poem got to me…excellent poem.
i like ur style my friend
things need to be said
& like a good preacher
no fire & brimstone
but w/ the subtlety
of the son
parables & such
the message
goes to the heart
i’m talking of ur poetry
in general
of this poem specifically
it is immense & sad
an engaging piece
may you always walk
in the light
peace & love my brother
estewolf
Wow this has great meaning, a reflection cast in limbo running same life over and over.
the way your words flow is entertaining, smart poetry.
thanks for sharing…
Descriptive, narrative, intriguing, suggestive… A nice piece to read…
Nicely done.
I think you’re well on your way there. Keep rolling!
So beautiful and sad…Made me remember of my granny and her place… all so cozy and really decadent … until she moved to an apartment… Now she’s dead and the place is a ruin..
ghostly feelings of being lost and nowhere is home any more…Sad, very sad… Poor Henry, a lost soul… xPenx
Beautifully written. So sad.
I was going to say, “my name is Veronica and I have been disappearing for years, too…” but it seems it’s – if not universal – than more common than I thought, maybe more common than YOU thought.
I want to know more…
Hi all, this was strange it fought me all the way. I once had a friend called Henry and I don’t know where he went. I dreamed after the writing that I had to tell specific people something important yet at the same time it was clear that I had to address us all. Very strange, and the feeling – is stronger, like there is something else…
A little jealous of “disappearing for years” but I will get over it.
Makes me think of the” Deserts miss the rains” song.
Excellent!
He only has a ghost of a chance of finding his home.
Enjoyed your poem.
I can’t seem to find my way home either.. Thank you for writing this. so much.
Wow! Probably the most powerful picture.
“I’ve been disappearing for years…”
Profound. Great piece! K
Brought tears to my eyes. You have such a gift for eliciting emotional responses. Since I recently have been looking for history on my grandfather, Henry Miller Brock, it is especially poignant!
disappearing for years… such a great way to put it k.
This word-picture of yours pulls at something deep inside me – an emotional configuration – not even half-remembered – subliminal.
I’ll be carrying “My name is Henry” with me throughout this day.
Truly – a gift from you to us, Kolembo. Thank you.