Gone.....

She left taking her worldly belongings
wrapped in an alphabet
that only she can speak,
all she had was poetry
how she managed to
pack them into those
second hand brown boxes
that kids sit in in supermarkets
playing as if Lewis rules
and tie them with metaphors
is beyond my ken,
I don't know why she left
so suddenly
not even a sign of smudged mascara,
but fate is a strange game
that plays between the lines
of empty poems,
but hers are not empty
God forbid, no, full
to every last
full stop and sigh, wrung from a heart
Dylan would have smiled on,
perhaps he does.

David Taylor
Not gone just hiding, she likes to play games and make sure you never take her for granted. Lure her out with wonder, awe and humility...

Raj Arumugam
Lovely lines, wojja...the imagery is so apt

jinjahman
Departed muse poem perhaps? Although this is so fine a poem, that can't really be true!