Pyre
Empty Dreams
PYRE
Not again a December
Nor yet a January
Last year’s transition
Left me singly crying.
Again alone all empty
I yearn for a lover’s touch
Of mellowed compassion
One’s once loved feelings.
The sun’s primal rays yet again fallow
Grimly the surround before me as I step out.
The breeze kissing our faces soft on our hair
Yes we listened to the lush whispering grass
Now around me fading into the field
Brownish not a single blade I saw swaying.
Pockets of dandelions we once laid on
Cut across up close to the pond now shallow
Mirrored yellowish into still water reflecting
The rays of time finite now since you left.
Barefooted farther down long shadows appear
Tracing prints of our exuberant halcyon youth
With joyful innocence we cast into shooting stars
Our dreams now boomerang into empty promises.
What more does Chronos have in store?
Dante’s gothic sickle?
In pyre is my world my love
Sun after moon
Each moon find me crying
Each sun yet another dying.
©NDR 24 Dec 1969
My "true love" after all was not. We were young, we were in love. We shared everything, every tear, every joy. We shared this separation. We grew up. We said goodbye.
