Not to Be
The note came disguised -
Nearly forgotten your delicate
placement of words along
the blade unsheathed neath
sand stirred in the
guarded jar of your
ambered memory
The note came disguised -
A single flower drifting from
a towering tree of hanging hurt
floating across the years
Revealed now, the still gaping
wound of what you
name a quite natural drift
rather than a self-severed
amputation
I watch you
hurry
away
Dragging past pain
across the country of Never Future
Watch you
hurry back to Shared Yesterday
See two little girls laughing -
Running, hand in hand -
Chestnut blossoms falling in our
hair as we floated into a forever future
Only one of us yet yearns to share
The note lingers
its song sung
clear and aching
as bagpipes on a foggy moor
on a cold morn
The note is heard
you will not come
