dash
 
I Never Asked

I never asked her but I should have liked to
catch her hiccoughs, taste her tears, crash land.
Hallways and regret, the doubts that blind you.
 
She waved, I thought. At me? For all that I knew,
her aim was absent-minded or offhand.
I never asked her why. IÖ didnít like to.
 
She may have smiled. She smiled. And what did I do?
I called it kind and left it there to hang.
Doorways close. Regret and doubt will find you
 
telling tales as true that are not quite true,
making out things happened as you planned.
I never asked her in. I would have liked to.
 
The roads not taken, blurring in the bright blue
distance. Golden roads to Samarkand.
Always the regret, the doubt inside you

bleeding through. The longing to be lied to.
Simple signs I fail to understand.
I never asked, but yes, I would have liked to.
Always the regret, the clouded light. You.

Joe Crocker
 
 
If you have any thoughts on this poem, Joe Crocker would be pleased to hear them.


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