POETRY
Posted: Sat Sep 21, 2013 4:27 am
Is It Thunder?, by Charles Carreon
Somewhere between the gold and the black
I lost you --
You fell from my hand
Like a card from the deck,
And you're gone--
I can't retrieve
the things that we had
I can't reclaim
the hours that have slipped away--
There is nothing left
But an empty horizon and you.
Like the sun coming out from
Behind a cloud--
A dream that couldn't be true,
You were a vision in sunlight and lace,
Never was there another face
Like the one
That you wore--
But now that you're gone
I sit alone and I wonder,
Is it the sound of the rain
that I hear? Is it thunder?
Come back again in my dreams if you can,
You're welcome if ever you choose
To join me there,
I don't have much company
These days,
I stay in the same old place,
And I sit alone and wonder,
Is it the sound of the rain
that I hear? Is it thunder?
(Dedicated to my mother, Eloise Carreon and the Choir of the Sacred Heart)
Somewhere between the gold and the black
I lost you --
You fell from my hand
Like a card from the deck,
And you're gone--
I can't retrieve
the things that we had
I can't reclaim
the hours that have slipped away--
There is nothing left
But an empty horizon and you.
Like the sun coming out from
Behind a cloud--
A dream that couldn't be true,
You were a vision in sunlight and lace,
Never was there another face
Like the one
That you wore--
But now that you're gone
I sit alone and I wonder,
Is it the sound of the rain
that I hear? Is it thunder?
Come back again in my dreams if you can,
You're welcome if ever you choose
To join me there,
I don't have much company
These days,
I stay in the same old place,
And I sit alone and wonder,
Is it the sound of the rain
that I hear? Is it thunder?
(Dedicated to my mother, Eloise Carreon and the Choir of the Sacred Heart)