Like a soft breeze that, barely there, sifts the papers on my table.
A window, open, and the curtains move gently.
A memory, that should not have been there.
An emotion that barely acknowledged should have known better.
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By analysing pain we should know why we hurt, a dull longing for someone is the worst of pains. Once we find out why we hurt it would be nice if it just got up and left. We should however not attach to pain, and must try to live each moment as they come. Karin I loved your poem you wrote so sensitively about your distant ache. Bob
I was touched by 'a faraway pain like a bird that alights on my hand'. Your exploration of pain is sensitively conveyed and and without it a hole is left, as if you deserve to have no release. A vast subject to write about, and beautifully written. 10 love Karin
I love the way you managed to make this one flow, perhaps pulse, like a nerve ending screaming for conscious attentiveness. Well penned, Rani, which much for the reader to ponder! Warm regards, John.
it will leave a painful, abyssmal hole.....a very good analysis on pain...excellent poem
A fine observation. Yes, why do we? But your poem has normalized it harmonically.
Vivid analysis of pain Rani - - and how directly you enter the subject and disect the images of this almost indescribable hurt- - - - an unforgettable read..... Fay 10 + + +
.....Some ice on distant mountains settles in my heart..... very nice, rani! I enjoyed reading your poem.
Remove it now and then I fear That it will leave a painful, abyssmal hole. Rachel Ann Butler