The day you left, Autumn went with you.
It was Winter right away
-The city kind. Snow falls heavy, and gray.
Snowmen slouch to their knees in muck,
while I stood in the archway
of a cracked-face store,
staring at the sky
and waiting for the rain.
-Waiting for you to walk up
and show me that you’re okay.
I know, in the illogic of my heart
that you’ve not gone.
You simply left to follow the sun.
I know, as I fall to the fate of sleep,
that you stir awake.
Not so far off, that I can’t hear you still
singing to me.
Not so far off; These everyday dreams.
I can’t name a single song,
but I can see your face.
It’s a quiet world, around me now,
after the stonefall settled down.
I thought to gather it up and make a wall.
But then I’d end up locking myself in, and alone.
And you out, when you try to come home.
Winter retires, but this rain has not,
for it is not.
It’s the tears and the sweat
of the snowmen’s tired journey.
These clouds are their spirits, lifting away.
Through their confusion, in all the fury;
Restless ghosts, too loved to float astray.
I know, in the illogic of my heart
you’ve not left with them.
So I don’t pray.
There’s a basket by the door,
for your dirty clothes.
Atop the stairs, on the banister,
your robe.
I’m in the family room,
‘tho it’s not (but I hope)
by the window, looking past the snow.
When you left,
you took away the logic
to the seasons.
Through the television,
it’s mostly blue.
But off and on, it shows again,
the lack of reason.
Of falling stones, crumbling snowmen,
gray rainbows
and ten thousand tears for you.
Inside my window,
I’ve lit a candle for you
and I cup its lonely warmth.
It sits beside a yellow rose.
I swear, tho, I swear
it’s not the start
of a garden for your ghost.
When you left, years ago today,
a struggle started,
as logic and I parted.
Of fate and faith.
One so strong and obnoxious
and one quiet, not as obvious.
All those ghosts, I couldn’t save.
In my tears I didn’t see you wave
-If you did, I wouldn’t know.
I admit, I knelt to ground
as the gathering puddles
mirrored the stone falling down.
But my love, I’m standing now.
It’s been many years,
clouds again come and go.
Rain is again rain.
And snow, it’s just snow.
But in the still illogic of my heart,
there’s a few ghosts.
Maybe one of them met you
and could tell me, before they go.
Where you went, when we had to part.
Where you are, besides my heart.
This sky, this peaceful blue,
carrying wayward spirit-clouds.
None of them you.
All those ghosts,
any one I’d save,
just to tell me, still
you’re not alone.
My love, I am still brave,
until you come home.
~~~
hello dearest Styxian this is written so intimately of a loss of a loved one… so deeply you felt their loss I can relate it is day I will never forget…I didn’t write yet but I don’t think I could have come close to expressing the personal pain you felt that day and later…fantastic write ❤️
Thanks for saying so, Crims. The “snowmen” are actually the firemen that were on the scene. I saw several pics of them covered in soot, etc. Their bravery was incredible, and deserved a mention here.
When I saw the list of the victims, back in the day, it just floored me. The massive loss of life and destruction…just overwhelming.
Powerfully penned, Mark. Another excellent write and tribute to those we lost my friend. I think everybody remembers where they were that day. All that witnessed have never forgotten. Amazing read as always. Appreciate you.
Damian