5/24/12
Part of a much longer unfinished poem.
The words have all been spoken.
The libations have all been poured.
Sand in a box, sitting in limbo
Neither on earth nor in earth
But waiting to be enshrined. You,
And yet, no longer truly you.
I will eat animal crackers today.
The frosted ones, not plain,
And Earl Grey tea with vanilla -
No cinnamon, though. I never
Cared for that as much as you did.
And perhaps, at the end of the day,
A rum and Coke, if enough
Of what I need to do is done.
You would understand that caveat.
The words have all been spoken.
The stories have all been told.
Do I alone remember the day? Perhaps.
I live among the walls you built
And lie in the bed where flank to flank
And clasping hands, we slept.
I wore a bright silky dress today.
Not practical pants, nor the restrained
Black that suits my taste.
You would have liked it, liked
To see my hair hanging loose,
The emerald you gave me so long ago
Flashing on its white-gold chain,
Subtle traces of your cologne at my neck.
You still reverberate in my senses.
The words have all been spoken.
The songs have all been sung.
Our tomorrows are ended now:
Calcined into a box of sand,
Dust-hued revenant of memory.
And so I walk our road alone.
The words have all been spoken.
Not all the tears have been shed.