Monday, June 11, 2012

Of What Remains




Sometimes when the sky is full of night
and the wind slumbers
high in the poplar trees
where the song of soft summer rain
haggles the leaves by day…

Sometimes, when the moon is swallowed in blackness
as earth and sky coalesce
in inky nothingness
save for the thickening quiet
blanketing the hour…

Sometimes, when longing could swallow an ocean
and emptiness is full of aching
and aching is full of emptiness
save for a the echo
of what could have been...

Sometimes, then I weep for gladness
and the love of double-edges
for surely fulfillment and need
are the enduring offerings
of what remains

I remember

J~

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