Letting go

It’s about the eyes
the way that they dance
and sparkle
like sunlight on the sea
and
they do it for me.

Do you know how it feels
when you kneel down to pray
and the one up above
says,
Sorry
she’s gone away?

I do.

I can do the fantasy thing better than
anyone I know
but I don’t show it
no one will see it
because they don’t have those eyes.

Midnight tries to calm me down
and
morning comes in this old town
I lay next to the dressing gown,
the one
she used to wear.

© 2018, John Smallshaw.