… kites across the sky

in rows, the kites across the sky,

the families running, side-by-side;

the spring has come, with all its warmth,

the freeze has gone away, and died

 

as i, the watcher, go my way,

and whisper, looking back, “goodbye,”

for all i lost when you detached

and joined the other kites

across

 
the sky

.the phases of collapse.

what? i’m sorry, what?
this, no — no, this cannot be true.
you’re leaving for awhile, is all.
it’s what you need to do.

but i’ll be here when you come back.
or if not here, i’ll be
someplace, much smaller, cheaper, but
you’ll know where to find me.

we’ll not do anything rash right now.
we’ll wait. just wait and see —

= = = = =

you want what? to work out what?
you LEFT — who cares? screw you.
you don’t care about us, so why
should we change what we do?

we were not good enough for you,
go on, go lead your life —
you didn’t want this home we made;
you didn’t want your wife —

so go on, ’cause i’m tired of this.
go live that life so vaunted:
and screw the woman down the street –
that’s what you really wanted

= = = = =

a new start we could make. it would
be better now, by far;
you could just quit that second job,
i’ll get a smaller car

and we can go and get some help.
you’re going through depression:
it’s not a thing you fix by only
going to one session

we’ll work on this. we’ll make it work.
i know that we can do it.
there’s lots of people struggling.
stay here, and we’ll work through it …

= = = = =

i love my child, but maybe i’m not meant
to be “in love” with anyone at all.
for years, the guys ignored me, and i spent
a lot of time just staring at the wall

i thought we would be different, but i guess
that i was not enough for him somehow;
my child’s life and mine are now a mess,
and nobody will ever love me now

to dream of being cherished, and to know
that all these dreams are simply foolishness;
and notice now, wherever i might go,
the couples everywhere, that now depress

my sagging spirit here, alone and low:
this wasn’t how things were
supposed
to go

= = = = =

he’s gone, and i go on, no, WE go on.
my son and i go out to claim our place;
i will not be ashamed of who i am
or set more grief upon that precious face

for many struggle daily in this world,
for love, success, to feel that they belong –
but i am not defeated, now, by love;
i am
and will be
here
alive
and strong

Reflex

Letting go is all he knows.
She told him to, and so he did,
But feels an emptiness inside
Like oceans full of everything
And nothing

For what has been
Is nevermore:
There’s just an ever kind of ache,
For both the love that went
And all the hope that it
Took with it

She told him to, and so he did —

A bright day in his memory

Outside his darkened room, a warm wind blows

Such things aren’t meant to be

Why is it
Just a scent
Can bring her back
Into a brain

That swears to everyone

That letting go is all he knows

I saw three tulips in a row…

I saw three tulips in a row
As if in mimicry of rows of stone;
They stood a flimsy guard upon the way
That I have walked today,
And walked alone —

So recently, just shaking hands,
Before you left to come out here to sleep;
And now these silent guards keep watch
Of one lone new dug swatch
Where you’ve your keep —

Life tears at us, and rips us, to
The core of what we’ve been and are;
And friends just float away like
Lost balloons
The spring is new mown in the grass,
And what was near now seems so far,
The clouds, they stack, for
Gathering monsoons

A glance: three tulips in a row,
Three brothers duty-borne and newly free:
So much that once seemed far is near,
Like history – or destiny –
And my despairing wish
You still
Were here

a scaring

the fall lay empty you
and i were sitting in
abandonment

but you were gone
you’d long been gone
i turned to look and you were gone
away

the autumn sank into,
beneath, the winds
of hollowness

but i was done
i’d long been done
so many happy things we’d never
done

a habit of ingratitude
that’s past the point of speech,
a scaring off of what grief is,
a knowledge beyond reach

october and a lonely wind,
a leaf blows by, and knows
that it is dead

i turn again to look for you,
for you will never leave
nor will this ache,

this dread

The Show Goes On

The show goes on; the dead have played their part.
But still we wait for one more cue, or line:
Those ne’er said words that we have known by heart,
And memorized, as though a valentine

That we will never feel in hand, or see.
The looked for, listened for, and waited on
That will not heed our cry, or hear our plea;
For love’s most fully owned when it is gone.

The show goes on; the dead have played their role,
But there’s no point in dialogue, or mark;
You live, although you’re missing half your soul,
A sunflower within the gray and dark —

    For none of it makes any kind of sense,
    The scene, the plot, the play, the

    Audience