ran out of steam, switched teams

My eyes are sunken,

my hair messy, and my mind drunken

from the dreams crossed

out, lost

from my mind in the cold of this frost.

As I sink deeper

this climb is getting steeper.

Weren’t you supposed to be my keeper,

the one who makes the hard things neater?

Will you clean this spill

or have you had your fill

of this view

of the golden hue

rising over the mountain

that rains like a fountain

reigning over the dark of night?

I’ve fought my fight

to see you once more, my dear.

See how the shadows disappear!

Now would you hold me near

as I whisper in your ear

a soft lullaby

of a kind love that will never die?

Don’t cry—

Listen

to the warm notes that glisten

as the lyrics drift from my tongue

and dart across the sky toward the sun

carried by the cool breeze—

My world is finally at ease.

My love, I’m not mistaken.

And I wish not to waste the time life hasn’t yet taken—

So tell me, can you hear the tender song the swallow sings

as the air dances beneath her wings?

You needn’t sigh

upon her heartfelt goodbye

for she told me a story

of courage and glory,

and of love and flowers,

of minutes and hours,

of days without end

and the letters I would send

and though for us it’s goodbye

she said you would reply:

My bird, don’t you worry

for I’m not in a hurry

to see you so soon,

to sit side-by-side on the moon.

My gift was my promise

and I’ll keep it and be honest.

I’ll live out my days

until my time finally fades.

And I’ll never forget

the first time that we met,

or the last when we parted,

or the time that we darted

through the door,

tumbling onto the floor

in laughter,

caught in our own happily ever after;

or when we swayed

to the waltz that played

through the gramophone

as the grand piano echoed through our little home

as if it was there

resting by the worn leather chair.

I won’t give into the sorrow

of knowing I won’t see you tomorrow

because of the memories

of our picnics under the poplar trees,

and the honey sandwiches that attracted the bees to our feast under tangerine skies.

No matter the time, or the place, or the weather, my love for you never dies.

—12/19/2019