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Sensing love, his eyes
meeting mine after distant years
pleading for forgiveness.
Pleading when I was a boy
Seeking consolation for his unfulfilled life,
Rejection by the one he loved
Eating his heart late into the night.
His mind, encased in dense darkness,
Bore visible welts.
Watching as he lost control
His body limp dropping to my feet
Sensing the vibration of his weight
meeting the floor
Transformed into an empty shell
of himself.
He, who trod through miles of wilderness
catching spotted trout
I, near the edge of a glistening stream
Hoping for fish to bite.
We walked from the stream
To where the polliwogs swam,
A shallow pond
black specks darting
Magnified by crystal-clear water.
Croaking resounded all around us.
A grey squirrel, lifelessly splayed
Upon a weathered fence top
In the heat of day
resting.
Suddenly springing to life
to cling to the nearest bark.
Now a pair,
dancing
Spiraling in upward downward cycles
In a ritual chasing dance.
A kind gentle woman
Eloquent with words
suddenly
numeric babble,
synapses changing
ebbing her consciousness.
The Fyvie stone weeps
As the stigmata of my soul,
My spirit draining
Soothing wounds
inflicted within abrupt lives,
displaying their bloom
too briefly.
Unable to anticipate the passages
The circadian rhythms abruptly severed.
My sad, empty soul.
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