To tell the story of a life
Takes many pages, many words;
To tell the story of a love
Takes every bit as long
The you I saw in summer fields
Beneath an endless weightless sky
The you I felt in tenderness
The softness of your skin, a sigh
For now, when I remember you
There is a novel in my mind;
The beauty of your memory
Is always young, and brave, and kind
There’s beauty in the world, I know,
But I thought I had lost it then:
You walked into the room, and I
Became the mindfulest of men
But this – this was not me at all
This was all you, and love; it was
A type of wakeful dreaming where
I did not want to wake, because
Your magic was in everything.
If ever a man loved, I did:
I cherished every moment, and
I lay awake at night and bid
The minutes slow their very march.
To lengthen time, our time, so much
As possible; to see your eyes
To stroke your hair, to softly touch
Your skin beneath your summer dress.
To love you there with all my heart;
Your words of warning in my ears
That love is short and lovers part.
A life, my life, what is it now?
It’s just a cold and fading fire
A soon forgotten flickering
Of what was once raging desire
And all for you, my long true love –
Who taught me wonder in the night,
Whose hand I took to cross the bridge
Of leaving off and doing right
The day is closing in, and I
Put down my pen, and rest a while –
For now, when I remember you
I shiver once, and lastly
Smile
(“Now, When I Remember You” – 6-25-2015)
