Thursday, July 12, 2007

Morse Code

I remember when
we used to
tell each other
I love you
on the tips
of our fingers
in morse code.

In the long
and short
pauses of
our touching,
which my hands
have not forgotten,
I still wake
to those rhythms
now and then.

11 comments:

Thinker said...

That's so intimate Brian...liked the morse code analogy.

Tiel Aisha Ansari said...

The Ringing of the Bards is up at http://knockingfrominside.blogspot.com/2007/07/ringing-of-bards-storming-bastille.html. Thanks for your contribution!

Deb Powers said...

so very lovely! Intimate is a good word for it.

Rax said...

this is sooo beautiful- fingerprint memories of love.

crimsonflaw said...

beautiful, the slow uninterrupted glide of sorrow in this poem ...and the role of the finger tips, how memories refuse to escape through them.. .

writerwoman said...

Intense and melodic. Romantic and wistful. This poem is one I have already read three times. Its beauty is unmistakable.

Brian said...

thanks everyone. my approach to writing (which is to never spend more than 3 minutes on the first draft of a poem), doesn't create poems like this very often.

ozymandiaz said...

Beautiful write Brian. Me thinks you have a penchant for such writing, if not a down right talent. I like this so very much. This is what poetry is about.

Crafty Green Poet said...

this is very sad

Anonymous said...

Good for people to know.

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