The Last Time I Saw His Face

The last time I saw his face.

So disparate

My feet in clouds

You solid, eye to microscope

I run in the meadow, guided by thistles

I dance among the clouds

You counting atoms, an accelerator your domain

I heard words, something, you said:

“the last time I saw her face”

laughter of steeplebells.

I danced upon a lilypad,

the silkiness between my toes

the fragrance of jasmine spilling around

I think I heard your voice

(I think I heard you sing)

singing the last time I kissed your cheek

but you didn’t know me

all of the frozen ground around us.

You didn’t know, I felt forgotten

while your hands dealt with slides and papers

segregating numbers, calculating spheres,

quantum mechanics, astrodynamics,

my eyes bathed in starlight,

waiting for the touch to heart.



end 11/6/2016 (how did it get to be 11/6/2016…I was functioning on 11/5!)

S. Darlington



7 thoughts on “The Last Time I Saw His Face

  1. Impressive. I think it’s time I revealed the Great Secret of Writing Sci Fi, passed down from antiquity. Admittedly I found it in the junk mail, but that’s what it said at the top. The GSoWSF (*thinks* need a better acronym)-you must always prepend ‘quantum’ and append ‘of time’, viz: the Pinot bottle was empty and forlorn, all that remained was a quantum coffee capsule and the swirling espresso of time.

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