TJ (17th June 1958 / England)

The Edge Of Thirteen

Silence is loudest
On the end of a phone,
When the one you want answers
But there’s no-one home.

You can hear the sound of thirteen
Around her,
You can just ‘see’ to the edge;
But beyond,
The view is obscured to you
By a bitter Ex’s hedge.

No Christmas window,
No Birthday gate:
An exclusion zone
Policed by hate.
A moat as wide as former friends
Too blind to see
They’re pawns to such ends.

An open line:
Eleven minutes unspoken.
A loving Dad
Even less than ‘token’.

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Comments (1)

Divorce is one of the most difficult times I can imagine. I can feel your pain and frustration here Tony. Very emotional poem. Great job. Sincerely, Mary