Magazine Posts

This was written on January 2, 2018.
It was about my wife, who passed
away on December 24, 2023.

Sometimes, reposting helps me with
this process of living. This is from December 23, 2017

A fantasy tale within a dream.

Winter winds blow,
icey cold.
Leave are flying,
most gold.

Here am I,
now alone,
no one to visit,
or phone.

When the Sun,
at last,
daylights going,
was fast.

It is when,
I contemplate,
about getting old.
Too late.

The sweetness
in your eyes,
helps me understand
and to realize,

the kindness of a smile,
a very pleasant surprise,
finding your inner beauty,
a Win a first prize.

The Sun breaks
through the clouds
of the Eastern sky.

A beautiful sunrise,
brightens the morning
as another day begins.

Swims the dreamer,
nevermore.
Nightmares a threat,
every shore.

Good memories,
nevermore.
Love is lost for,
evermore.

"A human being is a living constellation of contradictions, mostly opaque to itself. “Inward secret creatures,” Iris Murdoch called us in reckoning with the blind spots of our self-knowledge"... More at The Marginalian ➜

Here we are,
mere shadows now,
of what we there then,
and with questions about how.

How do we give,
when we are away?
How do we live,
in our life's array?

I'm sorry for the worry,
that followed you home.
Keeping those who love you
close, won't be alone.

Why are you sad,
for what I am,
when I am only
a weakened man.

Be nice, it's said,
for you may be,
the only survivor
of our family.

What a life it was,
no longer here,
when hope is gone
and it's only fear.

My greatest wish,
a simple desire,
to walk again
and you never tire.

For you are the one
and always will be,
my true love,
for I love thee.