I shall be telling this with a sigh.
That moment she put our heads together,
in the icy air of night,
seemed almost peaceful.
The sidewalks shone like alleys
of dropped maple leaves,
as we walked with a walk
that was measured and slow.
It was the darkest evening of the year
but between her and I,
all the heavens seemed to twinkle.
She was my North, my South, my East and West
in the heat and the cold
when no one else ever cared.
I thought that love would last forever:
I was wrong.
Her heart was learning to lie down forever.
To watch the woods filled up
with snow could be profound,
but only so an hour.
Then all is lost.
Stop all the clocks.
Cut off the stars.
Their greatness is a kind of grief.
I let her leave this place.
A final goodnight
as she drifted.
A black hole in space.
A final goodbye
as the stars started to fade.
I alone stay.
Last year is dead, they seem to say.
We cannot look back far
but not because of age.
Life is a stream
that sweeps us away.
The bitterness of the night matched the day.
As dawn goes down,
I have promises to keep.
Funny it seems, but by keeping
her end lost in dream,
I learned to walk without having feet.
Yet sometimes, in the distance,
I hear someone weep.
I taught myself to live without the constellations,
as I have miles to go before I sleep.
Miles to go before I sleep.
[ARH]