Breathe Close To Me
Breathe close to me, let not your head droop
nor your face grimace in fierce grief,
for when I must leave, all will not leave with me,
I promise....
The memories we made together
will sit safe inside your mind's nest.
I'll leave the photos too: I can't take them with me,
so you'll have the proof we were young once,
both pretty and foolish, drawn together like
two bees put in a jar, buzzing round each other
until their disparate sound becomes a kind of music.
The photos and memories can take you back to all
the places we loved in Italy and France and that
windblown prehistoric Southern beach where
our hearts first linked in tandem as flesh merged
and the monk-like sun set slowly, silently, o'er
that endless and holy ocean....
Yet they lie, those photos, static remembrances of
our youth and middle years, for no canvas or brain
can ever seize our love, the living thing it is,
unseen but tangible as a hand, vulnerable yet
enduring past anger, illness and even death...
because time cannot diminish this Being
born between us....
Copyright © L. J. Carber | Year Posted 2016
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