September mourns on silver lake

The sun sits in silence
a grieving watchman upon our sorrow
as the hues set to sepia tones
around the bridges of our silver lake
untouched by time, the moment remains
in my memory forever, and forever-more
sadly felt in swirls of surreality.

The waters feeding the lake giggle
like those noises we made
in our youth, together hiding in the long grass.
Playful moments that we never thought would end.
Immortal, strong, and loving we would ever be.
Just shadows of who we were
now gone like the morning mist
rising off the these chilled waters.
As if they laugh at; and whisper
of the foolishness of our youth.
Uncapture-able as the gossamer kisses
of light that danced in your hair.
Gone like the scent of lavender
upon the summer breezes.
Yet frozen still, like the waters
in days to come.

The geese, and ducks fill the ponds center
as they did , oh so long ago
that was just but a moment.
Quacking and honking in their
avian tongues; I wonder if they are the children's,
children of the children who's parents
watched us when we were but children
dreaming of parenthood together.
Coupled in the embrace of adults
as they crooned us voyeuristic
from their aquatic chairs.
Applauding us in the thrum of their flapping wings
upon the water, in those last days of summer.
Before the seasons fully changed
and they would leave on their journey
to warmer climes, and fertile grounds.

I stand here by the bridge
where I waved that last goodbye
and silently mouthed your name, before disappearing
into the mists as if swallowed by time,
the last tear upon your cheek forever etched
within my heart, breaking it still
in the what if's of tomorrows sorrow.
As the mists arise and almost beckon me
within to cross, as if time would reverse
and we could make that right,
instead of being left ... alone.

It is quiet now,
upon the timbers
as I silently
wish to cross that bridge again
Hoping upon hope
that you will
welcome me
Home.

B.L. House 2007

*** Inspired by October Road and the poetry of August Sky/2007 ***