Regrets
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I return each year to make my peace
I wade through quilts of grass and stone
Beside the mounds, of cold damp earth
And pray it's true.......that angels hear
Will gather 'round to listen, now
I need to know that somewhere there
is someone close, to feel my breath
To hear the words I've left unsaid
or accolades I should have shared
But words, too late, I've kept unspoken
inaudible, are broken tears
and with regret, I will come
to spread transparent words around
I should have sung them long ago
Toss them like leaves, so you would know
to catch them like the leaves of fall...
And gently you would gather them
to keep them for your heart to own
Through the years I've held regret
From things suppressed that froze my tongue
And with regret, words linger yet,
Still hovering to weigh me down
---------------------------
For Catie's Contest: "No More Masks"
Inspired by a poem by Angelina W. Grimke
The Eyes of My Regret
Always at dusk, the same tearless experience,
The same dragging of feet up the same well-worn path
To the same well-worn rock;
The same crimson or gold dropping away of the sun
The same tints, - rose, saffron, violet, lavender, grey
Meeting, mingling, mixing mistily;
Before me the same blue black cedar rising jaggedly to
a point;
Over it, the same slow unlidding of twin stars,
Two eyes, unfathomable, soul-searing,
Watching, watching, watching me;
The same two eyes that draw me forth, against my will
dusk after dusk;
The same two eyes that keep me sitting late into the
night, chin on knees
Keep me there lonely, rigid, tearless, numbly
miserable -
The eyes of my Regret.
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2015
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