The Distance Between Us
There are no guarantees.
The definition escapes you.
No room for me,
Webster’s might say
the clue known
only to you.
Beyond this point,
there be dragons,
a matter of politics.
all that matters,
my heart secondary
to the source, you.
This is my response to MTB: Lists that Google gives us, the prompt from Björn at dVerse Poets Pub, which is to start a word search at Google, following the thread from word to word to create a poem. I started with “guarantee,” which led me to “definition,” and onward. The title, “The Distance Between Us” was actually my starting point, but when that thread ran dry, I decided it still works as a title.
Image source: worthpoint.com
In the photo for Thursday Photo Prompt: Faraway #writephoto at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo, I see depth and distance. I have no other explanation for the poem that follows.
Ever Deeper, Ever Darker
Your path lies in a distance
deeper than the farthest reaches of the horizon.
How to follow, when your course knows no direction
other than an ever-widening spiral that leads back on itself?
The closer we become,
the higher the walls between us.
Do you miss the company, or revel in the solitary
nature of canyons ever in darkness?
I want to know you in the light of a sun
that does not set even before it rises.
You would have that sun never be,
widening the distance between us until I no longer want to follow.
Also linked to dverse Open Link Night #229
Distance, As a Product of Time
Easy, the choice
I made, regarding
direction and future.
Without fear, but
not without thought.
Huge, the flood
of emotions. Distance,
from those I love,
for the nearness of you.
Time has proven
the truth of that choice.
Bonds that last.
The five word prompts for The Secret Keeper’s Weekly Writing Prompt #99 are easy, flood, thought, fear and huge.
Change of Perspective
When distance was an inconvenience
bordering on pain, it measured
separation. Ones and zeroes,
in tones and pixels, were the bridge
crossing the miles that tires knew
so well. Long hours of fatigue,
the toll of travel, became instant
gratification. Sight and sound,
minus presence, replaced touch,
the cost of compromised satisfaction.
Distance measured in years
makes memories of those times. Now,
we drive those miles and talk about the lake,
your ring, your dress. All blue.
The blue that erased the distance
separating us, the thread that will join us.
Image: Lake Erie shoreline at Presque Isle State Park, Erie, Pennsylvania