Martin Redfern

by | Oct 26, 2012 | Prose & Poetry | 3 comments

 

 

The tone of your voice


I watch you answer the phone.

From the tone of your voice,

I realise it’s over.

 

I hear the tenderness

I had understood was mine.

You run your fingers through your hair,

The breeze unsettling your dress.

I comb your exquisite face

To search for hope.

But your eyes are exuberant now,

You overflow with him.

 

I want to plead for what we once had –

Instead I say nothing.

How do I tell you what you have told me?
 

 

 

Martin Redfern was brought up in the West Midlands and has lived in Edinburgh since the 1990s.  A publisher by occupation, Martin also writes short stories and poetry. He’s uncertain whether he’s poacher turned game-keeper or vice versa….

 

3 Comments

  1. John Lotheringon
    John Lotheringon on October 27, 2012 at 6:48 pm

    Beautiful economy and observation capturing a transformative moment in a life.

  2. Peter Dennis
    Peter Dennis on October 29, 2012 at 9:53 am

    The paralysis of the narrator in this excellent poem is what gets me. ‘Instead I say nothing’ is a heartbreaking line. The way that observation – detatchment – is a false coping mechanism. Lends the poem an exquisite melancholy.

  3. Stuart Smith
    Stuart Smith on November 8, 2012 at 11:48 am

    Heartbreakingly sad, so poignantly depicted , a very beautiful and delicate poem.