I have fiberglass memories of feelings,
bent over and shuddering
against some wall I built
to hold back memories of feeling
just like this.
Yesterday
(or was it thirty years ago?)
I recall a distant sound of mellodion,
away, a distant sound
of quiet crying, crying, laughing.
Hold me someone, please,
before the moment of this moment
becomes too much
and I am lost.
At the feet of tall trees
in some distant past,
transfixed,
she and I,
the slouching shadows
shift across her face.
She is gone, now, gone,
grown to other places
as I have grown to this,
this nightmare of repeating us,
repeating us - but, no,
I am awake, alone, adrift
at angles to her
(or to some other destination
forever just beyond),
three miles out
but out there
somewhere
distant.
Silver trophy winner
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