At what point do you realise you’re
not alive? I’ve watched
pedestrian slow to
moribund, the colour
drain away like a leaching wound. Life
without verve is no life at all
and my verve shot away years ago. He left
on this tangental course, a maverick
fired like some devil who may care. Oh,
he’s fine by the way and living it up
in a lush valley somewhere, high
on peyote and painting the tall
arid peaks where
the air is clear and the milky way
whispers sweet nothings
in his ear, the shining girl who
once curved my night sky
poem © copyright Dave Barker 2012
Ciscography 
sounds like a scene worthy of a slap to the head, if not more. Great imagery.
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dang man….your verve has got up and left….stinks when it happens…love how you creatively show it though…the milky way sweet nothing on the ear…and he still alive living it up somewhere…without you…
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Interesting. Sorry your verve left.
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I love the way you’ve twisted “devil may care, ” and the escape that also draws a certain longing in the narrator. k .
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WHOA
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I really like the imagery in this poem, the way it speaks volumes without seeming to try. You did a very good job with this poem.
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Thank you so much!!!
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