Best Losslight Poems
the saline sadness from my eyes
uniquely helps me close my eyes
to pain I have endured in light
and darkness has revealed
the taste I have secured for life
for sleep has no real apetite
when in my room, my bed resumed
embraced in sleepless night
in me this point I reach
I know
I have withheld the tears
where saline sadness grates
and madness waits, they flow
when we unite
you dark
and I
assemble at the close of day
to fading folds of cloak we bear
we trust our tired light today
time strikes, the hour counts
and day seems passed so soon
I lay my head on foam filled bower
to rest in blissfull swoon
as sun retreats and light decays
in spectrum
all arrays displays
I set aside the time in space
to file the aging fuss
the fire dimmed
by cold embrace
a frigid veil
that hides the face
the morning far as morning star
relinquish I the pace so soon
in light of absent moon
Imagine a man standing under Sycamore trees
Near a slow moving stream.
Imagine behind him young mothers push strollers.
It is Autumn. Wind rustles the aging yellow leaves flutter.
He has been here many times before.
He is watching turtles slip from a fallen tree into the stream.
Imagine a few leaves twist upward and fall. The trees are letting go.
I remember letting go of my father’s hand running to a stream we were about to fish.
I remember him letting go laughing carrying long thin rods.
Imagine small ducks drift across the shimmering water
And the leaves letting go of air and color surrender to the stream.
Small fish swim in the water feeding.
I imagine my wife behind the man pulling her sweater over her shoulders.
Maybe life is one long lesson in letting go.
Too soon, I will have to let go of all of this.
Imagine letting go of the man, the stream, the park,
All disappearing into the golden light pushing up through the Sycamore trees.
Imagine the light disappearing.
The light shining from the lamp cast shadows in the room. Shadows that left empty spaces,
darkened.
Memories of the few happy times slowly work their way through his mind. He thinks he's the
only one who sits and thinks of what could've been. Is he though?
A shadow is all that's left for him to dream by. The light, still there, is warm and yet not
enough. The reasons aren't enough to stop the memories from making him want more of the
same yet he holds himself back each time.
Words spoken aren't seen as arrows that shoot like piercing spears. And so he sits. Effected,
yet not. For a memory is only as strong as the light that makes the shadow fall.
She couldn't wait
Any longer
Putting on a navy coat
She turned on the porch light
And went outside
Searching the road
That ran past her house.
That morning
Just before the sun
Came up
They spoke
Silent walls
Listening
To their secrets.
Shivering in the night's dampness
She couldn't remember
Everything he said
His muffled words
Seemed so vague
And far away.
Tired
She went back
Inside
To rest.
Closing her eyes
She felt movement
Turning over gently
To someplace far away
And the thought of dying
Came to her
A chance light from a passing car
Flashed
Shadows on the walls
And she saw
The substance of a child
Walking in a dream
A dim light
Highlighting her hair
She asked, Are you coming to take me?
Smiling the child answered
We are eager
When life gives
And afraid when life takes back
You have time
I will be back
When you are ready.
The wind was beginning to race down
From the west
He had forgotten how cold
The March wind could be.
Turning up his collar
He walked quickly
The sound of
Gravel churning under his boots.
She heard
Boots scraping the front steps
What took you so long she asked?
I dropped by to see my Mother
There's not much to say
Mom's still waiting for Dad
To come home
After all this time.