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Jun 08, 2026
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After He Left
She is of this moment.
The pulse in her wrist
whispers as she watches
the window sheer
give life, then retreat,
while the breeze outside
passes by, sensing
that, inside her empty room,
there is little need for air,
only a single chair
to sit and count the days.
— Lavender, Jun 08, 2026
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About This Poem
Style/Type: Free verse
Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing Stage: Rough draft
Critiques
Candlewitch
1 week 3 days ago
I might be wrong, but...
reading this poem, viewing it through my somber lens... I get a feeling of factual resignation. I think the artist does not whine about her situation or feel sorry for herself. She is okay with "what is" and is reflective. A brave, well balanced person. If I am wrong, I apologize. I like the poem, you have not lost your minimalist style. Thanks for posting this!
hugs and stardust, Cat
Lavender
1 week 3 days ago
Good morning, Cat!
How are you and Steven?
I like your interpretation! Sometimes I write automatically, and this is what appeared. I changed very little. After it landed, I wondered what might make her feel this way, and that's how the title came to be.
I hope you are well!
Thank you for reading and commenting.
Lx
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