MUSED
BellaOnline Literary Review
Out of the Mist by Verne L. Thayer

Table of Contents

Poetry


The Void

Marchell Dyon

You know now what´s missing
Laughter, tears of joy, all that.

You hear those phantom children
Playing inside your backyard

You spy at them through your kitchen window
They look you in the eyes as you welcome them

They shake their heads, no.
And ghost away like clouds

They are the could have been children
The ones you decided not to have

Always, you thought there would be time,
But those tomorrows never came.

You claw at the space between.
You claw at imaginary stretch marks.

You go to doctors, you go to quacks.
You venture into the offices of every medicine

You venture into the lairs of every witch
Still, you are left with the void

When your body tells you, time´s up.
You sit in your car at night.

You stare into elementary windows
With tears in your lonesome eyes

You stare out knowing only too well
How an empty school house feels.




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