September 23, 2019

• a long crossing

  

   

  verbs are becoming obsolete
  nothing is blended in soft pastels
  everything's in black
  and white
  love is no longer a promise
  it's a long crossing to yesterday
  a continent reachable
  only when you row through dreams

  but the past is always present in a poem
  and never absent from a story
  history speaks but we never listen
  in our hardened hearts
  emptied of spirit
  in the end, who isn't up against god
  like a shadow of a cut-out shape
  reflected in a mirror

  reality is unfinished business
  light breaks from the
  shadowy ridge
  eternity is sitting on the rafters

  i wanted to write about how beautiful
  it was to love you
  but someone else
  will have to write that poem
  someone else
  will have to tell that story

  • 6:07 am
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