on this, this day

on this,
this day,
how long it’s been,
my heart explodes within my chest

for you,
you were my ground and sky,
the ling’ring scent I loved the best

but this I’ve dreaded,
low and long,
to see you once again and know

that you,
you were my everything,
that I held close and then

let go

An Echo In The Forest

From across a far ravine.

An echo in the forest
From across a far ravine;
The last words that you said to me
In memory still green

An echo in the forest
That my lonesome ears discern:
The sound of your departing
Knowing you would not

Return

lying awake

she lies awake and wonders where it went
the glow that once surrounded who she was
for all the hidden talents she’s misspent
for random choices, lacking a “because”

in stillness now, she thinks of one mistake
her mother’s eyes with tears were dabbed and flecked
for all that woman’s faults, for goodness sake
she didn’t merit wanton disrespect

but now, her mother gone beyond her reach
the tears beset her eyes, and she feels shame
the lessons only loneliness can teach
when there is no one else that’s left to blame

but she’s no worse than most: it’s how she’s built
to lie awake awash in waves of guilt

If Memory Was Made of Glass

If memory was made of glass,
And I could see right through,
Perhaps I’d see it clearly: how
It’s always been with you

Perhaps then I could understand
What led you to each choice:
The demons on your shoulder, and
Your broken inner voice

But such has not been mine, as yet –
Clear-sighted memory –
And so I search these waters for
Some bit
Of clarity

Where The Past Goes to Hide

The years are dust
The light is now
And the room is made of riddles

The questions that get asked
When no one could expect an answer

Of why we did
The things we did
And how we casually dispensed
With friends
With time
With life

I have a secret in this room
It is my burden, alone

For while greed has its economy
And envy has its politics
Regret
Has only an attic