Poetry: Leaving

By: Jasmine Nihmey Vasdi

when it is decided

that someone should leave

there is

a

 gasp

only heard as an echo of heart

after it happens

so loud

must sit down

a small breath

like 

younger fists 

grasping for water

in the driest days

of Winter.

pulling out our pockets

for cotton handkerchiefs answers

we can only look through windows

at snow tired dreams.

a particular haze

one we do not hear of too often 

nowadays.

when the train moves fast through all those towns 

where yellow roses grew muddy paws.

my eyes dried out from all the running trying to catch everyone moving so fast

through the white veils thicker socks.