all that’s left unsaid

I don’t know where we were going with that
I picture the image of your lips left open
as if breathlessly hanging on the crumbling edge
and waiting for something for which I was hopin’

to fall, instead all conversation ends interrupted
thoughts lost, forever unfinished
but of all that’s left unsaid
importance is not lessened or diminished

just left hanging
on a clothesline blowing in the wind
and covered in the dust of erosion
long past needing to be brought back in

just out of reach

Image by eflon via Flickr

I noticed some speckled rocks on the shore
as bells in the distance rang out an unfamiliar tune
that disturbed an unfinished symphony I was thinking of
like a pebble thrown into a still pond
while unsuccessfully fishing on a lazy summer afternoon
with restless leaves in the nearby trees
moving like the hands of a child
reaching for an object just out of reach