“How do you deal with a dying friend?”
asked the child to the tree,
who had lived for so many years,
the tall giant much older than he.

“You remember them in the wind,
and in the dirt beneath your feet,
you remember their laughter in the forest,
even if you do not feel complete.

You remember their name
in every person you meet,
you remember them by being strong,
so the goodbye can be bittersweet.

For in life we are who we care for,
both the sickly and the sweet,
so remember those who said goodbye,
and hope that in the next life you’ll meet.”

The tree replied these words to the boy,
hoping he would heed,
for soon the poor boy will realize,
the tree is much wiser than he.

the solid beat along the floor
the echo of the violin
the pace of pining breaths
against each other's skin

the music kicks up
you part with my waist
and the longer i'm away
the more time seems to chase

my eyes open to darkness
i'm left with a dream fleeting
all i recall are the notes of a song
such a bittersweet meeting!

Take back the memory.
You have it.
Yet how can I give something away I don't want to be without?
Sometimes loss is the best thing.
Why does it not feel that way now?

If you knew
the games of chess
I play with you.
You would wonder why
you win so easily
whilst it is I
who loses her king
each time.

What is it like to go from white
to black,
move along the squares, the moods,
whilst I'm here wishing to go back.
Take back my faulty move, return
to those halcyon days,
toasting under the sun.

The rain should have been a sign
for those days long gone.
That our day is past, our time is through,
for not much longer would I lose you

I had a dream of you and I,
layin' on a dead poet's tomb
playing our song, watchin' the stars
and wishing one would fall into us.

Sun sets behind, same as always
stretching my still unshapen shadow forward

My foot on the pedal presses,
maybe not as hard as before,
but always

The comic line perspective
forced to fit the frame, constricts
but at the same time comforts

Synapses that once crackled, fizzle
and with a little sadness,
still smile

life is too short to dwell on times past
yet every waking moment is spent with regrets for
half-truths, almost-friends, near-misses
of you         and I        and him      and her.
of two souls that had collided, only to fade back into
unknowns. back to strangers.

him     her.
near misses.
never      seen.
past surfaces.
missing    found.
of what could have
been.

An evening full of bliss
Dreams and infatuation blooming
Laughter and confidence radiating
Such an evening only results in a morning full of sorrow
As you mourn the loss of feeling alive
A feeling which only sparks but once every season