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.