Thursday, March 22, 2018

yet a future

and I find myself counting down
to events that will never come
I find myself looking back
towards a past I cannot reclaim
I find myself wondering what exactly it is that I have done wrong

we are so much more and so much less than that
short remembrances given at family gatherings
or those old contempts spoken quietly across small tables
the furtive smile and the withdrawn compliment

a spinning and a swirling and
there we are again
together in those moments we wish to recreate
asking for a revival not a requiem

a requiem is what is left now

rise as you must every morning
what else is there
owing it as we all do to others
and to a future unwritten though seeming more narrow

yet a future

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