the last get me back ~

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whereIamknown

once was
a man
I never did know
my daddy
before
he fell into love
whiskey
and fifty two cards
more than most
a heart split apart
by the last
get me back
to a place
not for keeping
returned me
to find
forever had never
been lost
all that was mattered
to the ways
I had come
without need
for a map
or a star
wished upon

. . .

listen ~

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rememberedhere

on this sweltering dawn
I stand barefoot on a narrow step
looking out through eyes
blurred by emotion
seeking an unknown part of my past
a place I must have known
would find me here
with no one yet to answer
but for me
the purple buds are tempted
another week to stay

sorrow comes easily
as in the counting still –
of friends he seems
more willing than the rest
to listen as my heart concedes
I knew not when to break
or what of verses now
would yesterday
forsake

silent
raindrops
will comfort me now
a hundred times – of listening
volumes unconfessed
across a missing
separated –
mourning
words of love

how long this day
in coming
was there time before this loss
I can finally begin to recite
in an almost whisper
ten thousand volumes
of verse I never shared
and let my heart beat steadily
the celestial rhythms
of mourning
and show you the depths –

sentiment
hidden for the lifetime
that has separated us

. . .

forgive ~

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rememberedhere

forgive of me
a time before
when leaving broke
my heart
before the spring
when as a blossom
burst
to decorate your garden
with perfume
once was mine
before the chase
of dew into the light

pardon me
this lowly salve
of choices to confuse
emotion
spent
and what for love
was done –
as places of your dreaming
where I am unafraid
of longing meant to soothe
this emptiness

as quiet to
an awkward stance
thought you knew me when
by storms awoke
remembered not
my name
forgive of me
this dreadful verse
kept my soul from staying –
the taking back
of love
I meant to give

. . .

recalled to me ~

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intothenothing

the wind
yet remembers
the weight of my willing
another I was
but a girl – only ten
crickets and
tadpoles
blackberry winters
barefoot as
lifetimes
recalled to me then

spirits
carry me
home by the river
out past the waiting
once promised
for us
a truth
undecided
as roads without name
an echo of someone
I used to be –
loved

. . .

trusted ~

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tolovethisplace

sometimes
I awake
in the still sweat
of night
– called from my sleep
by your voice
as love softly spoken
echoes somehow
to fill every shadow
– the long miles
between

as memory wills
truth unto silence
an ache
sworn to listen
lest slumber return
as darkness
to squander
the courage of morning –
a soul never trusted
to dream

. . .

promises ~

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homeagain

failing now
the chilly grip
of cold
the winter fingers
are warmed to life
by memories of spring
a blushing pink
umbrella
is refuge for the worn
while orchards wait
the hum of honeybees
nature wills
the letting go
with promises of time
as black
the berry wakes
beside the thorn

. . .

Author’s Note: The telling of Spring is everywhere this week. Just yesterday I pulled to the roadside and counted 24 deer in the field near my house. Sunlight sits in pools where ice has only recently melted, as babies remember the way back to places they’ve never been. *sigh*

. . .

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