RECEDING
I’m receding from you
A flashing step
A blinding scrim of rain
I’m. Receding from you
Your voice no longer carries
Your figure a shadow play
Receding now
Solitude fixed
Along a berm of silence
Receding swiftly. From you now
Whoever you are
Whatever you meant to me
SPECTERS
I saw you thirty years from now
Sitting on a subway, the ruined
Corridors of your beauty
In deep fluorescence.
I wanted to ask if you were
Lonely, and if you were
Where was I?
If gone, who then to share
All this sorrow?
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Ken Holland is a frequent contributor to Lightwood. Read more of his writing and reviews by scrolling to our Search Link and entering his name and click.
Ken Holland has had work widely published in such journals as Rattle, Tulane Review, Southwest Review, The Galway Review and Tar River. He was awarded first place in the 2022 New Ohio Review poetry contest, judged by Kim Addonizio, and was a finalist in the 2022 Lascaux Prize in Poetry. His book length manuscript, Summer of the Gods, was a semi-finalist in the 2022 Able Muse book competition as well as Word Work’s 2022 Washington Prize. He’s been nominated three times for the Pushcart Prize. He lives in the mid-Hudson Valley of New York. More by visiting his website: ww.kenhollandpoet.com
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