A Bright May Morning - Woken by Your Call.

Increasing my sense of isolation

Your voice echoes down the telephone -

A lone flute heard in the distance

Or a far off lark calling for a mate -

Haunting the morning quiet as I struggle

                                                from sleep

Chilled to the bone by your absence.

You told me you loved me when, out of

                            the blue, you called me, 

Words clearing the shadows that webbed

                                               the skylight

Letting the sun break through.

But now truth is spoken the waiting seems

                                                        crueller

                                than it was at Tenebrae,

This house emptied of memory and

                                             lacking its soul.

Good Friday was all things but good, the

                                           loneliness visceral.

I sat at the window and tried to count seagulls

Ripping through plastic bags in the street.

Trevor John Karsavin Potter.

Poem started May 29th. - June 10th. 2018.

Poem completed November - 29th. - 30th. - December 2nd. - 3rd. 2020.