negative space

Yesterday upon the stair
I met a man who wasn’t there
He wasn’t there again today
Oh, how I wish he’d go away
William Hughes Mearns,from “Antigonish” 1899

Warm soapy water in the sink soothed the hands;
the ripple plunk of water was its own music. But there was
no big hand reaching for a wet dish to dry; it was as if
she had pulled a cup from the warm suds, and the water
waited to slide into the hole; and she stopped, wondering
why the water wasn’t filling in the damn hole. She saw him
only in dreams, always in dreams, elusive, unreal, gone.

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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