Where Did They Go?
For All of My Characters: Once and Future
They weren't and then they were,
yet I miss them. They're not really here,
unless I conjure them again from the page
by looking over the words that defined
and measured the age
in which they dwelt with their joys and pain,
their hopes and fears, their courage and outrage.
Then they weren't real...
Now I must feel
I've let them down in not finding
other eyes and hearts for binding
my creatures with the quickening breath
of those who walk the 'living' place
where we hide from our dreams
and shrink back from empty space.
If this at all grabs you, please consider reading my short piece "Sorry Vocal" which also discusses our connection with our creations. Thank you for reading this poem.
About the Creator
Roy Stevens
Just one bad apple can spoil a beautiful basket. The toxins seep throughout and...
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Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
Nice piece ✨❤️💯😉
I really feel responsible for my characters as well, it’s such an odd thing when I really think about it. Like I’m doing now, thanks to this piece! 😊