the old door’s now gone
for years kept out the cold winds
sorely missed these days
loneliness
up in the air…
how many
prophets
preach
this way
to
heaven
how many
candles
must
be lit
to
find peace
how many
silent
tears
are shed
while
alone
how many
voices
fill
night air
with
prayers
how many
cold nights
can
one heart
beat
alone
how many
prayers
are
raisins
in
the sun
nugatory slumber…
in the night
when you reach
and
the warmth
is gone
the day’s words
of
sincere sympathy
seem
as empty
as
the pillow
besides
your head
and
when sleep
finally comes
night’s
cold arms
all too soon
embrace
each dream
and
memory
of
another’s soul
curled
next
to yours
isolated…
she said to the night
i’m alone now and frightened
the night’s voice whispered
age makes us feel alone but
it’s how life’s really traveled
postponements…
life’s faded
to-do list
held in hands
marred
by time
once strong line
discolored
by
hope’s tears
over the years
promises
made
and sought
now
for naught
an
old man
his mirror
a last friend
daily routine…
copyright 2012 cwmartin
she gathers up
plastic bottles
along the roadside
no place for her pride
to hide
talks to herself
conversations
presented aloud
a voice in the crowd
so proud
she ignores stares
social judgments
rendered by the blind
who refuse to find
words kind
she’s all alone
on crowded streets
carting around bags
full of life’s old rags
hope sags
she turns quickly
her alleyway
finds a place to sleep
then begins to weep
fear’s weep
oneiroi…
it had been years
since he’d
shared a room
with a man
indeed
for 50 years
she had been
by his side
each night
how
clearly
he could still hear
her turning pages
as she read
late
into
the night
sometimes
dozing off
with the book
opened
and
propped upright
as if reading
with
closed eyelids
any attempt
at removing the book
garnered words
of denial
of sleeping
then
the shuffling of more pages
before the nightlight
was permitted
to sleep
however
his new roommate
preferred
old black and white movies
with
the sound set
to compensate
for the hearing aids
so neatly
stored in his desk
so as to save them
for
a special occasion
no doubt
his own funeral
so many changes
not only roommates
but
once great books
provided the escape
from life’s harshness
but now
it was
sleeping
more preciously
dreaming
for in dreams
you can be wherever
you wish
and
these constraints
of life
are
mere delusions
so
there’s no need
to
discern
night
from
day
except
when
she
comes
to
visit
