Tag Archives: Memories

Yesterday, or maybe a few days ago

There was snow on the roof.
Today, in the sunshine, it's gone
Its disappearance an absence,
As if, as if it had never been.
There was snow on that roof.
I remember it, as if, as if it was
Yesterday, or always, as if snow
On the roof was the usual, the 
Appearance I expected to see.
Its disappearance an absence,
Not a fact, not today's reality.
Memory is like that, bending 
The mind back to where it was.
Today, it's gone, its disappearance 
An absence, not today's reality. 
Memories are like that, indelible


A postscript, by way of extension, And a sigh over memory, often mislabeled fleeting, but actually etched…..

Missed

Missing the one who is missing
Is a way of finding him and also
A way of keeping him, a way of
Not losing him even if I know he
Is missing, gone, and I lost him
On that winter day, not a wintry 
Day, actually unseasonable for
The date, a day in winter, at the
End of February, the day he had
Passed from being by my side to
A state of memory and recall, a
Memory at every turn, always on
Call, but no longer here, missing

Grieving

There are so many words but
I have only used loss; I've only
Said "I'm mourning" or "I mourn"
I have said "I miss you" and I've
Mentioned that as I missed you,
You were also missing. I knew
You were lost and losing little
Bits of yourself over time which
I noticed you had lost. A whole
Concept, a man-made construct
Time was lost to you. This not
Being able to tell time caused 
A consternation. You did ask
After the time a lot. "What time
Is it?" A question that came at
Minutes apart. You wanted to
Know, to understand but you no
Longer had the sense of it. Time
Was already really irrelevant and
Lost. I knew I was grieving you 
[There I have said it.] I still had 
Little bits of you but I mourned,
Bereft of the partner who would
Know how to fix it. Whatever it
Might be. The companion who
Did things, set the clocks back 
Or forward, the lover who would
Recognize my feelings, the friend
Who would console when I was
Sad. I grieved alone. Sad alone. I rejoiced alone. You were here and we did laugh and chat together. Your chitchat could be so very Endearing. Now you are truly lost
To me but not lost in confusion   Lost. Gone. I can begin mourning 
Properly, my grief made real by
Your timely departure. You were
Able to pick your moment, time
Your passing perfectly. I have a
New concept of time now too, a
Time when a vibrant loving man 
Left me with memories, a time 
When that man, my man began 
His long fail into confusion, and
That time when I journeyed with
Him in sickness 'til death did us
Part and I was left bereft but with
Memories of his strength, of him.
Memories of his generosity and
His love and his care. I grieve his
Loss. I mourn your passing but
I rejoice in all our time together.
It was our time. We used it well.
Bereavement, grief, has its time
Now. Memories of all our time 
Fill my time now as I grieve you
And miss us. As I mourn our time

What we’ve seen

Observations, we've all made
Them, they're subtler than a
Whisper of disapproval or the
Mention of a disappointment.
Quiet thoughts, barely thought
Tucked away, secreted deep in
A dark corner of memory. You
Will know it as a fact. His mom
She was just like that, you will
Blurt it out, no malice, and no
Criticism, you resent neither
One of them for it's just how
They were, are in memory, and
In your observation. There's 
No whisper of discontent  on
Your mind, no disfavor to put
A pall over your thinking and
Hold you fast. And hard, in a
Strange place, booing ghosts.

Damned, Amen!

Not believing in heaven nor hell
I am the one who comforts and
Consoles. Fear of eternal [mind
You] damnation does not stir in
My mind or heart. You have to 
Believe to care about that. And to
Fear it as she did. Worry for my
Soul upset this dear sweet little
Innocent. I say religion be damned.
It separates and offers damn near
Nothing in return. Threats or lies
That unbind the ties we made,
That undermine love, friendship.
Damn near nothing in return to
Feed the soul or heal the spirit.
There should be comfort in belief.
It should refresh and bolster us,
Not damn us to such trepidations.
Trauma and fear do not console.