Winter light

Poem inspired by Sarah’s poem It’s raining in turn inspired by Laura Bloomsbury’s poem In The Rain. Another version of that meeting, or not. For the dverse prompt.

The light dredges up the memory
the colour of rain-smeared windows
of a seedy café
the kind where dirt seeps into the pores
smears on plastic
where spoons drown in coffee dregs
and the smell of frying
nothing definable just oil and sizzle.

You remember grease spitting

how you shuffled your feet
sipped gingerly from the edge of the cup
watched the door the rain
listened to time passing
hating the grey tired faces
for not being yours.

Time dripped
another smear
on the window.

Last train gone
you pushed back the chair
to leave
letting the clatter and scrape fill your ears
and the silence
of your voice not saying,
hello.

The chair scrape echoes
on and on
into the depths of the ear-whorl
but it never quite dies.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

19 thoughts on “Winter light”

  1. There’s so much sensory detail here, Jane, and then this:
    and the silence
    of your voice not saying,
    hello.

    the heart of the poem is in that silence, surrounded by all that clutter and clamour. The lack is what we take with us.

    And I’m delighted that my poem was part of the birth of this poem. Thank you.

    And I hope this poem is planting a seed in someone else’s mind, or adding a little water to a seed that’s already sprouting.

    1. Thank you. Silence doesn’t really exist if you think about it. Behind the ‘big’ noises are all the tiny noises we don’t hear until the din stops, and then there are the sounds of memory.

      1. You’re welcome. I used to love going to all night diners back in the days when I partied all night at the bar or club. Good times.

      2. Depends on what era you’re talking about, I think. You’ve seen Hopper’s diner which I know is still prevalent, but I think at one point they converted retired rail cars into them. I’m no expert.

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