He is beside himself
in the gallery vacuous
surrounded
by succulent courage
& bittersweet honesty
he stands out
a withered grape beside
himself beside a vacuous
vision an ormolu fantasy
defined by a fall
of acrid acorns gathered
beside & around him
the judgment of time spitting
& hissing like acid rain
© 2020 by Hannah Six
What thoughts are hers, transfixed by the unseen,
leaning alone against her stainless sink?
Whose voices rise and fall beyond the door,
laughing at memories she no longer shares?
Why, all alone, with company nearby,
does she continue in this twilit room?
When, steered by others’ choices, did she veer
into the path of this oncoming train?
How many landscapes have absorbed her gaze?
How many years will measure her defeat?
Where love wanders, the faithful fall behind,
to seek solace among what ruins they find.
(c) 2020 by Hannah Six
