when you go

when you go,
do not let it be
on some maybe
Tuesday afternoon
in December

go slowly, perhaps
over an entire year
of quiet Tuesdays
so that the mountains

do not spring
suddenly between us,
but are a gradual rise
of eventual goodbye

such a gentle shift
will leave no
sharp echo, but will
draw you out softly

from the corners
unknown others may
one day reclaim

when you go then,
not altogether tomorrow,
but one hair at a time

I will not need
to seek out the sounds
or angles of you,

the spying of which
would be false bloom –
like the sand cherries
in January

when a few fragile bits
for one bright morning
strive to forget spring

sits so far away
and hills have
risen up between

© Sarah Whiteley


  1. Because of the time of year….I had images of leaves falling slowly from the trees….well except one of my trees which every year decides to drop all its leaves at one time. …enjoyed the poem.



  2. Stunning and gorgeous poem, Sarah. Love the images and atmosphere in this brilliant poem.
    I have to return to blogger land , for I have missed reading you 🙂
    groetjes, Francina



  3. I like this a great deal Sarah. I thought I had commented earlier, but we’ve been in New Zealand and Singapore for seven weeks with variable internet. Catching up on return, it’s a pleasure to find your poem again.



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