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“The Lingerer by Stewart Stafford Another lonely start, O shadow companion, My twin bereft of heart, On grief’s stormy galleon. Each step disbelief, Strangers pass in proximity, In motion an artist’s relief, Abstract as infinity. The quickening pulse of streets, Tears on cheeks reflective, This scarred heart missing beats, Damaged and defective. Home now just where memory sits, Perspective greatly shifted, This shapeless form no longer fits, The body it was gifted. And if, my love, you see me now, I beg you, look away, Love’s blush departed with a bow, Then withered and decayed. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.” — Stewart Stafford
The Lingerer by Stewart Stafford
Another lonely start,
O shadow companion,
My twin bereft of heart,
On grief’s stormy galleon.
Each step disbelief,
Strangers pass in proximity,
In motion an artist’s relief,
Abstract as infinity.
The quickening pulse of streets,
Tears on cheeks reflective,
This scarred heart missing beats,
Damaged and defective.
Home now just where memory sits,
Perspective greatly shifted,
This shapeless form no longer fits,
The body it was gifted.
And if, my love, you see me now,
I beg you, look away,
Love’s blush departed with a bow,
Then withered and decayed.
© Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.