Magpie #233
The Wind in the Aspens
When he died very young
The burden was too heavy to carry alone
Still you stood straight and tall
You said you told yourself
It is what he would have wanted
When he died too young
The burden was too heavy to carry alone
I stood straight and tall
I said I do it for him
In remembrance of him
To honor him
His life
My love for him
His leaving
When I die I will no longer be young
I will have seen much in the instant
That is my life
I will have carried many heavy burdens
Still I will remember
I will collect bones and ashes
I will have cried many tears
I will have learned much
For you were my teacher
I have also learned from passing strangers
Words spoken under their breath
Our eyes meet only for a moment
Continents move
Mountains crumble
The cosmos expands
Stars sparkle in the night
Long ago and faraway
In the future
Our breaths fall to the earth
To disappear into nothingness
The heart is silent
Only the wind
As it moves through the aspens
Carries memories of you
August 17, 2014
http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com
Who Are We
Who can say
Who is who
Perhaps we all belong
To the class of demimonde
Dress in bright colors of our choice
Sing and dance to grand songs
Some consider us an abomination
Since we have no allegiance
Our actions are not transgressions
Some say we belong in the asylum
Myself I say no we must be free
With our rites
We say our prayers
Lite candles
Perhaps we could be reborn in Africa
Or in another faraway place
Today the weather is gray
The sun shines
I think of you
Oranges and spice
I write on the fringe of society
August 16, 2014
http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/2014/08/poetry-pantry-214.html
I have found my world
Closer to the heart
I wear around my neck
That holds a lock of your hair
Of other days
When you were small
I open my arms
You come to me
You were moved to that hospital
She was showing me around
Near the elevators
Were chairs
She said, we keep the doors locked
The homeless used to come
To sit in the chairs
The winters are cold
I told her not long ago
You were homeless
Yes I still miss you
Whose Sons have died
Micheal’s Mother
And the journalist’s Mother
The Mother of the boy
Who stole two energy drinks
Litter the streets