"Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky,
We fell them down and turn them into paper,
That we may record our emptiness."
Khalil Gibran

Saturday, August 12, 2017

You -


There are no good-byes for my dog who has died,
and we don't now and never did lie to each other.
Pablo Neruda

Jasper
2010 ~ 2017


They gave me your ashes
and I did not understand how this could be
when I had seen your shadow in the morning –
it was you –
you followed me from my room
you, who was always more darkness than light
snipped from the ink of night
but always so warm to the touch –
and now, I recall, that this morning I put out my hand
but you slipped through my fingers and were gone.
The ashes were heavier than I expected
and whatever they are, they are not you.


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Izy Gruye encourages us to Write Unseen in The Imaginary Garden this week.


Sunday, August 6, 2017

On Sorrow

Emotion, Sadness ~ ErtéFair Use




I grow older
ghosts accumulate
one now waits for me at the back door
which wasn’t there before

My wound won’t heal
it oozes and sulks
having taken on a life of its own
which is not my concern

I court sorrow
like an old lover returned
from journeying
and not someone I ever missed


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Flash 55 PLUS! in the Imaginary Garden.