A bed of spring violets blooms
through a thin blanket
of dead brown leaves.
The seasons are confused,
like my heart.
Years you’ve been gone.
But my heart forgets
and blooms again
with love for you – for you.
Tag: Death
-
The Notice
Walking home from the park at dusk
on a warm day for early January,
I saw him in an outer doorway,
leaning against the arched entrance
of the library’s courtyard,
smoking a cigarette in the shadows.He couldn’t face the light
or look me in the eye,
but he glanced at me, sideways,
looked away, knowing I knew
why he’d shown up here.Even in profile
I could see the sadness.
He was a bit apologetic
but his jaw was set,
determined, he had a job to do —
maybe more than one,
or someone more important than usual,
from how almost repentant he looked.“You’re a motherfucking coward.”
I could see it stung
because he knew it was true.
But my anger, his empathy,
wouldn’t stop him.“Someday you’ll have to come for me.”
He flinched. It was a fight he’d lost before,
and wasn’t too keen to fight again,
but he straightened his shoulders,
took one last deep puff of his cigarette,
flicked it to the ground
and stomped it with his heel
as he turned and disappeared
like smoke in the shadows.Leaving me to wonder
about the details of his warning
and which ones I love
would feel his cold hand on their shoulders
in this dark, cold, dying year.
-
You can’t go home again
Her car turned at the corner.
She hadn’t meant to turn,
but this path was etched in her mind,
a groove worn by time after time.She parked in front of the house,
closed her eyes to see inside:
soft light, cigarette smoke,
lemon furniture polish,
television on, dishes clanking,
soup stewing on the stove,
open arms waiting.She could walk right in,
not even knock.But when she opened her eyes,
it was all gone,
the house painted yellow now,
the driveway paved.
If she tried to go in,
the faces, all changed,
would turn to stare at a stranger.She drove a mile down the road
to the edge of town
stepped out of her car,
walked across some well-kept grass,
bent down and felt the names
etched deeply in stone.
Names that belonged to the house
that was and wasn’t there.
