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Far Be It From Me
Here I can see him
From miles I cannot understand
In a state of consciousness beyond reason
I wait.
A room of bars and golden lights
Tin cans and classical music
Far below my heavy words
I wait.
Here I can hear him
With seconds and hours drowning
Behind memories scratchy and skipping
I wait.
In the chilled pools of logic
In the motels of remembrance
Under the desks of burden
Between the cracks of things I’ll never understand
In shells of old
In clothes of new
In love,
I wait.
Copyright ©
Dianna Coleman
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