Dreams of Mourning

Tears dry on my pillow,
disappearing like the days.
Calendar pages bandage wounds,
but clock hands fail to heal.
I tumble through my memories
hunting for your face, your voice;
always around the corner,
never reached in time.

Sleep is my tormentor; her
shadows play hide-n-seek,
her whispers not quite heard.

She mocks my broken heart,
yet hope remains.

I will find you waiting–

between my dreams and wake.

 

Published in: on November 17, 2014 at 9:04 am  Comments (2)  
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A Chill in the Air

On Tuesday you cried

upon my shoulder,

trusting Jesus to save

your soul.

On Friday you played

the entertainer, making light

of fearful faces in the room.

~

You left us in November

as the cold was setting in.

~

You danced in the face of death,

a can of beer in your hand.

But morning came with raindrops,

in your bed you would remain.

You communicated in silence,

lids weighted with eternal sleep.

~

You left us in November

as the cold was setting in.

~

We ate brownies topped

with ice cream, while the lesbian

hugged the Catholic and God’s

Spirit sweetly smiled.

We laughed through tears

as we remembered; said

our prayers to fill the void.

~

You left us in November

as the cold was setting in.

~

I said goodbye on Thursday,

and left roses in the snow.

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