Weighted down by sudden air,
Hemmed in by giant silences,
Manacled with stout cords of despair,
I blindly grope for this, your touch–
To rest my lips upon your eyes.
But all is still.
I hear rock words monotonously pound
Against the wall
Grown up between myself and others.
Is this a wall too formidable for you to vault?
(Isobel Stone)
More Poetry from Isobel Stone:
- I Dread The Spring (Isobel Stone Poems)
- Creator (Isobel Stone Poems)
- Moments Reluctant To Pass (Isobel Stone Poems)
- Still Death (Isobel Stone Poems)
- Night Mood (Isobel Stone Poems)
- Bricks (Isobel Stone Poems)