That day

The day the suitcase stood in the living room,
open,  waiting for contents, but no one was there
to fill it, and a spider already decided to make its web
in the rusty iron corners where it would never catch a fly,
when dust  danced in the sunlight that came in through misty windows
that day would be known as too late.

Comments on: "That day" (4)

  1. This is a cracking poem in its concept.

    But I do feel you could play with a bit and make it much better.

    Just my opinion you understand. I hope you dont’ mind.


    • Thank you for being honest 🙂 no I don’t mind of course, I am glad you help me edit, you know your stuff lol. The problem with blogs is that you have to do all editing yourself 🙂

      I will try and see if I can do it up. Love and hugs! 🙂

  2. I like this Ina.

    David knows much more about poetry than I do, so I am eager to see if you change it.

    However I would be pleased with it if I had written it! The idea is really good.

    Love and hugs xx

    • Thank you very much. 🙂 I wanted to capture a moment without telling what has happend or will happen:) it will be fun to play around with it!

      love and hugs

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