Public Posts Kirkland, WA Kirkland, WA (zoom)

What day
will it end.
When you go
from Love,
to just being,
a friend?
How will I know?

One more moment,
is all I ask,
to be with you again.
One moment is the past.

Memories are pushing out,
from my brain.
Memories of love
and an occasional disdain.

No one prepares you
of the loss of a life.
In my case, it was,
the loss of my wife.

Ive been told to feel lucky,
in this play, life,
for all of the time,
I spent with my wife.

While the information is true,
except for the rest of your life,
please understand, your loss,
cuts like a sharp knife.

Please spare me the platitudes,
they don't help my wife,
and certainly do nothing,
reduce my sadness and strife.

When this life is over,
it will never be,
for I've lost her,
for an eternity.

Love knows no limit,
Love knows no bound.
Love is now missing.
Love cannot be found.

Here I am,
yearning for love.
A friendship to secure,
forever my trove.

Words become a topic,
when used to describe,
a collection of words,
into a finished document.
This was what I was trying to
convey in this December 2020 writing,

Many, many years ago,
Twas when I went to sea,
when I enlisted in the
United States Navy.

Nineteen years of age,
still wet behind the ears.
Away from home, first time,
battling youthful fears.

Stationed in San Diego,
aboard a Destroyer Escort, DE.
Chipping paint and repainting,
then I went to sea.

Many years have gone by
and if the need was as then,
I would re-enlist,
once more, once again.

Why has life become,
not fun anymore?
It's the same game,
when we don't keep score.

My life has more sadness,
with an aching desire,
for my emotions,
are now on fire.

Will you remember,
the vows we made,
when with another?
Someone said.

A memory of a past writing,
which brings me pleasure.
I hope you enjoy.

I have found, living together
and now apart,
has become a sad place,
full of sorrow and a broken heart.

It encompasses most of the residents.
The sense of sadness, now,
of life's losses and
more broken hearts, lost vow.

So many stories exist,
in this aging residence,
of illness and lost life,
a memory, a remembrance.

Often times, when reflecting on
the past, I will wonder, what was,
I thinking about when I wrote this.
I don't know, is my answer.
You be the judge.

I know I was writing about a friend,
who would listen to my concerns and
provided support by just listening.
A truly, great trait, for a friend.
I am a lucky man.

When I'm alone
and blue,
I find myself,
thinking of you,

no matter where,
near or far,
I want to be,
where you are.