My memories are almost dead
but I can remember the feeling
of the sun beginning to set;
the seasons finishing themselves off;
& the ripeness of fruit
begging for yet another beginning.
& I’ve often wondered about you,
whether you shaved,
bought a new car left the meat to thaw
or perhaps you read the poem
I wrote for u last summer…
Nobody knows forever the way we do.
& each evening I lift my pen to write
I imagine u
looking out a window
I am planting beauty
in a barren field
because of the crows.
You render me beautiful tell me to come in
in effort to examine my vanishing faith.
But I look up and remind u
Soon u will be gone
for spring is coming
& the sun has begun to set.
I don’t remember it all
but today I look up
& see an empty gray and white chair
somehow I get the feeling a man I loved is gone.