The corner where she used to wait
for the bus running regularly, on
it’s efficient daily schedule.
The unbelieving nature turned
upon itself like clockwork because
of the unimaginable.
Snow covered roof looking out
on the white space of incumbent
frustration.
Should lasting memories portray
the sun in the face of waxing
nightfall?
Cherished hopes like potpourri,
crushed with the faint scent of
blossoms.
Patience will recover optimism,
every brush with tragedy leaves its
mark on the uninitiated.
Collapsed eras evident in the word
of the forceful, their crude rhythms
slowly entering consciousness.
It was there all along in the seams
of a garment, the last calling she
discarded.
A bolted fortress, things were stored,
through forced disuse, the battle to
stay was always losing.
We wanted to leave as fortune’s
magnet, let go gently as a spring
wind stirring.
Sentences keep her hands clasped
and will strong, these perennial
repentances.
Shuddering as fate, each loss
brought down the barriers of
childhood faith.
This way of life was forever to
some of us, it continually closed
our horizons.
From the book of poetry, “Desperate Measures” (2012).
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