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ADELAIDE Independent Bimonthly Literary Magazine / Revista Literária Independente Bimensal, New York / Lisboa, Online Edition  

 




 

 



 

 

 

 

 

 

THOUGHT ON A MONDAY MORNING
By Mark Martyre

 

 

 

 

 

Thought on a Monday morning

She continues to grow
more beautiful
as each day passes.
As I continue to rot.

The fates launched us to opposite ends
of the arc,but my heart always finds hers
like a magnet,
and I'm always being drawn to its pull.

I can never escape my love for her,
I will always hold her in my heart
and in my mind
while I know that our skin will never touch.

She continues to grow
more beautiful
every time I see her.
While I keep wilting away.

I have nothing but good things to say about her.
Nothing but loving things to tell her.
But, it's often better
if I say nothing at all.

 

 

 

 

 


Silhouettes

We walked together;
it was the longest day of the year.

We walked together the river's edge,
among families of geese,
under the quiet rustling trees,
bathed in the orange glow
that bounced off the water,
that spread across the grass,
that danced with the bugs fluttering in the bushes,
that shone on your face, through your eyes,
and within the gentle words
you spoke.

And then the sun began to set, on that warm day,
and we turned, with the sun at our back,
to head back home:
me to mine and
you to yours. 

Long shadows, we cast,
that pushed into the future,
that raced across the waters, and fields,
and gravel paths.
Our silhouettes stretched out
ahead of us
as we walked.
as they continue to stretch to this day,
as they reach me here
now.

And, I know, they'll reach into the next life
when we both come back as stray dogs,
and I spend that lifetime picking up your scent,
always trying to find the air around your heart.

And then again when we're birds,
and our shadows fly high above the earth.
But each with our own migrating pattern
that never aligns.

And the shadows will reach into the life after that:
me as a peasant, you as a queen,
me sitting outside the palace walls
hoping for glimpse of your silhouette in the window.

And on and on the long shadows stretch,
finding us reborn again and again in South America,
then in India, then as turtles, then as elephants,
then as Parisians - where our smiling eyes meet
as we both browse the book vendors on the quai,
along The Seine.

And on and on the long shadows stretch,
just as they had stretched up to today
through conquests of Alexander the Great,
through the Renaissance,
through me seeing you across a 1920's speakeasy,
dancing with other flapper girls.

And then, finally,
after many eras have come and gone.
After our hairstyles, and clothing
have moved forward,
and then come back around.
After we've explored the far reaches of space
and I've loved you from the surfaces of Mars,
and from the moons of Jupiter.

After my heart has spent thousands of years searching for yours,

we'll return, once more,
to walk on the longest day of the year,
along the edges of the river,
with the sun setting before our eyes.

But, this time, hand in hand,
as partners, as lovers,
finally sharing the
same shadow.

 

 

 

About the Author:

Mark

Mark Martyre is a Canadian writer and musician. He has written and produced five studio albums since 2012, which have garnered critical acclaim, both nationally and internationally. Mark's poems have recently been published in Peacock Journal, The Littlest Voice, Poetry Breakfast, and The Spadina Literary Review. For more information visit http://www.markmartyre.com

 

 

 

 

 




 




 

 

 

     
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