August Poetry: Leaving

A poem by Mark Stephenson

Leaving

I will go now
leave you to your games
a world I may not enter

you will trip along
skipping with balloons
I will go now

leave you to your sparkles
pink and purple trades
I cannot follow

over the green grass
into the blue
only watch

I will go now
tear myself
away from your face

your eyelids,
tiny veins translucent
like delicate china

now you sleep,
balanced between worlds,
stretching my belief

I hold my breath

I will go now
soon.