A Telling Poem

A Telling Poem A telling poem in raw verse, reckless content in poignant style, a deft presence once here, now fled, deceptive as my lover's smile. Was it caprice or just false glow that brought me joy, or was it grief? Among the debris of time I search, seeking the illusion, love's thief. Her dark eyes mirrored our future, a glacial vista never planned, so inscruitably transient like vagrant scribbling in the sand. Once I was filled with her magic but dark remembrance clouds the air, knowing that my future depends on forgetting she was ever here. Each day grows shorter, fibrous thin, and I wade through the falling rain, ever spattered and not yet wrung from the immersion in the pain. Maybe I shall know that way again with better memories flowing down, gray ink from the nib of my pen, one more jewel for my muse's crown.