Wednesday, March 22, 2017

Seconds


often hard as firsts
equally jarring -- now we
proceed into thirds

'don't need reminding
that i feel out of place in
our home -- my own skin

so different now
the passage of time without
your voice...  eyes...  laughter...

there have been hard times
yet there are the better days
each bears its own gifts

i am still standing
obviously worse for wear
a little less shine

at last, reading more
it has shaken loose the words
nestled in my bones

missing you always
not just on the hardest days
good ones most of all

spring has come again
i will grow -- thrive -- with your last
words:  "I love you, too."

 


Onward & Upward,

"Musick has Charms to sooth a savage Breast,
To soften Rocks, or bend a knotted Oak.
I've read, that things inanimate have mov'd,
And, as with living Souls, have been inform'd,
By Magick Numbers and persuasive Sound.
...
Anselmo sleeps, and is at Peace; last Night
The silent Tomb receiv'd the good Old King;
He and his Sorrows now are safely lodg'd
Within its cold, but hospitable Bosom.
..."
- William Congreve, The Mourning Bride