60 Comments
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Paul Wittenberger's avatar

Thank you for restacking this poem, @Maureen Susannah

Paul Wittenberger's avatar

Thank you for the restack, @Tinabeth Chapman

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Thank you, @Lique, for sharing this poem.

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Thanks for the restack, @Jane Deegan

Jane Deegan's avatar

You're welcome!

Paul Wittenberger's avatar

My thanks to @Maureen Doallas for sharing this poem.

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Thank you for this restack, @SammyD

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Thank you, Diane & @Blue Citizen 77 for this restack 💙💙

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Thank you for this restack, @Portia

Portia's avatar

This one too put something in my eye…🥹

Paul Wittenberger's avatar

Even after a relationship has ended there can still be unresolved issues that didn’t end with it.

Portia's avatar

Tell me about it, but it takes someone like you to finally see them clearly and, possibly, tackle them.

Paul Wittenberger's avatar

Thanks for the restack, @Earl Nobdy

Martin Mc Carthy's avatar

You're right, Paul, relationships don't just end cleanly and neatly, and that's it. There's the whole aftermath or afterlife to deal with:

("the way everything continues without permission")

even though both parties have to do this alone. This is another starkly real and honest poem.

Paul Wittenberger's avatar

And we keep talking about them as if they’re still going on somewhere, in another room, in that life of which we are no longer a part.

Thank you for your comments, Martin.

mitch's avatar

Great and sad poem ,Paul . Yet I am sure we all go through that one way or another . Peace to you

Paul Wittenberger's avatar

Thank you for reading and commenting, Mitch—I appreciate it!

Rolando Andrade's avatar

Thank you for your poem. As I often say, "grief is the presence of an absence, a formless pain, someone who silently insists on staying." Your poem captures that beautifully: the anguish of the one who remains, confronted by the presence—taking the form of pain—of the one who chose to leave.

What remains are fragments, pieces of life that still seem alive, fragments of the past that are, in reality, part of the present, and a future that is impossible to imagine without the absent one. There is no peace while the echoes of their footsteps still resound through the room.

Paul Wittenberger's avatar

Perhaps grief is only love that is never or can’t be finished.

Thank you, Rolando, for sharing your thoughts on this poem.

Rolando Andrade's avatar

My pleasure Paul. Grief has multiple faces. One is what you mention

Paul Wittenberger's avatar

Or perhaps grief is love that has lost its address. Thank you, Rolando

Ms.JP's avatar

The poem arrives in its time, decoding the edge of something difficult to track. It leaves is own residue, for some reason I am grateful to recognize that residue. It is a surprising serendipitous moment. Thank you 🙏🏾

Paul Wittenberger's avatar

Thank you for reading and for sharing your thoughts on this poem, Ms. JP.

Ms.JP's avatar
5dEdited

Thank you for the poem🙏🏾and the sharing of it. It gave me a beautiful moment. I enjoyed that.

Paul Wittenberger's avatar

You are so welcome, Ms. JP

Simone Senisin's avatar

Brilliant Paul

Paul Wittenberger's avatar

Thank you for reading and commenting, Simone. In the speaker's mind, the relationship still goes on at some level, even after it has ended.

Simone Senisin's avatar

Yes, it is very clever Paul, l do really enjoy your poetry, how you express what is common to our human experience 😊

Patris's avatar

Am in line at the pharmacy- imagine the people near me wondering why my eyes are shining..

Paul Wittenberger's avatar

But no on reaches out, do they?

Patris's avatar

no one .. but i shouldn’t have been reading your poetry after all..

Paul Wittenberger's avatar

Of course you can read poetry in the pharmacy line. I think it’s still allowed.

Patris's avatar

😊

Paul Wittenberger's avatar

It might turn out to be just what the doctor ordered 😊

Patris's avatar

xx

Jackie's avatar

This stirred something dormant

in my soul.

Paul Wittenberger's avatar

What a wonderful comment to read. Thank you, Jackie.