Pieces
Pieces
I gather things I thought were important,
that don't seem quite that way anymore.
There are pictures of the past,
and lists of goals for the future
on the table and in the drawer.
But I find, I don't want to look
at any of them, any longer.
Some bring too much pain,
and there is no gain.
Others bother me like brothers,
that tease, and never please.
I hang onto the moment,
and speak to strangers about
fluff, and stuff...
that does not matter.
My heart is empty and full.
How can that happen?
How can that be, at the same time?
Choices people make,
and bridges burned in big fires
that still show embers among the coals
and in the dark holes,
of people's lives... years later.
None of which ever
will earn anything but empty baskets
without bread, or fish.
So... it is a wish...
nay a prayer
for better days,
when there were still
five corners in the brand-new puzzle box,
and yet enough faith to
put the picture together...
up until the end.
I will send you the last page of a book,
torn out for reasons I can not say,
perhaps however to pay,
some debt,
that has no value
at all?
I will do that...
if I can find a place,
to send it to.
I think of you.
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