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I Will Never Forget

I will never forget the man I fell in love with, 
a man who once felt whole, who now bellows 
through broken nights of blood-stained desert, 
who sees ashen faces frozen in sand squalls  
and calls out for brothers and sisters encaged  
behind barb-wire fences. I listen for his silence   
to speak, for bombs to detonate, for bullets 
ablaze in his burnt memories. How can I keep      
vigil every night while he wrestles sleep?  
Love is a tender hand to wipe the sweat  
from his brow, a voice to quiet ghosts,  
but love falls again and again. I wake
entrenched in him, his Irish rye taste,  
muscles clenched, surface entangled  
in foreign lands and the earthy pines  
of home. I fear my own needs, confused  
by boulders piled higher, arms reached out,  
his bare back turned away – I push
and pull,  pinned to him, tormented  
by his pain, his hardened shell in 
tornadic dreams. When his beautiful  
mind slips into terror and disappears  
in black, even spring no longer holds  
tomorrow’s birth. Even the gardener,
distressed, retreats in snowdrifts of moonless 
night. Seasons come and go, the petals wilt,
the leaves dry, and the skies become  
unsettled by violent storms. 
Puddled in sweat again, his eyes weep without words. 
He is noise, a restless drum pounding in my ears. 
Blue veins bleed coagulated tears, and I, with heavy  
red lids, watch hecklers taunt. Faceless  
widows circle around demonic flames, sparks  
dance in their cool clearing. I smell their root, 
like licorice, moist and dark  
when he slips again. Then, comes morning.  
He lifts mountains to sky, and I forget the night.  
He colors my silent soul in sapphire. With a trace  
of one finger, I sigh, new like a hopeful dawn.  
Darkness forgotten, I tumble soft through  
lavender clouds in bloom and ladles deep  
in his warm, starry-eyed wake. I lay
beside every nuance of his camouflaged rhythms –  
his march, stomp, glide, his lowered stance  
accepted in strength and weakness. Another  
bloody night beats on stone, and I try again  
to keep vigil as he succumbs to yesterday’s battlefield.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




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Date: 5/17/2020 3:33:00 PM
Rhonda Congrats on a very touching write! Your deep seated anguish is transmitted through this wonderfully well written poem. Wish you the very best
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Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
Date: 5/22/2020 12:05:00 AM
Thank you so much, Krish! Hugs, Rhonda
Date: 5/17/2020 8:42:00 AM
Your words make me travel to an unknown land of my emotions. Congratulations Rhonda :)
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Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
Date: 5/22/2020 12:04:00 AM
Thank you, Aditi. I'm grateful for your visits! xx Rhonda
Date: 5/17/2020 7:54:00 AM
Your poem took me to your personal angst for your beloved... He colours my silent soul in sapphire.. such a beautiful line... a truly wonderful poem for the contest... Congratulations on your first place in the contest..
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Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
Date: 5/22/2020 12:03:00 AM
Thank you, Silent! This one is fiction, but I tried to capture the pain of the survivor and his loved ones. I'm happy you appreciated it. xx Rhonda
Date: 5/13/2020 3:51:00 PM
Oh my my Rhonda this is captivating writing, I always enjoy your writes but this...is a masterpiece, you should write short stories or a novel, you have a gift!!
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Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
Date: 5/13/2020 10:38:00 PM
Hi John, thank you SO much for your visit and comment. It's been a very long time since I've written anything at all, so your kind words are encouraging and greatly appreciated!

Book: Reflection on the Important Things