Residue

[stormy sky]

I personally find this one a little amteurish.


I've shut the door,latched it,
you've said your last words
And i have shut the door on your waning back.

Yet the wind has made it's way to the hills and valleys of my back...,
Patterns flower and wilt in a single breath,
through the thin dismal space between the wood and hinge
the wind has come and with moisture...

wood,glass and all the concrete melt into nothingness,
then again,when were they anything at all
to the passing surge of wind,the wet of rain....,
and the shadows of those left
unsaid,unheard,suffocating between a closed door and a receding back.