Sensing love, his eyes meeting mine after distant years pleading for forgiveness. Pleading when I was a boy Seeking consolation for his unfulfilled life, Rejection by the one he loved Eating his heart late into the night. His mind, encased in dense darkness, Bore visible welts.
Watching as he lost control His body limp dropping to my feet Sensing the vibration of his weight meeting the floor Transformed into an empty shell of himself.
He, who trod through miles of wilderness catching spotted trout I, near the edge of a glistening stream Hoping for fish to bite. We walked from the stream To where the polliwogs swam, A shallow pond black specks darting Magnified by crystal-clear water. Croaking resounded all around us.
A grey squirrel, lifelessly splayed Upon a weathered fence top In the heat of day resting. Suddenly springing to life to cling to the nearest bark. Now a pair, dancing Spiraling in upward downward cycles In a ritual chasing dance.
A kind gentle woman Eloquent with words suddenly numeric babble, synapses changing ebbing her consciousness.
The Fyvie stone weeps As the stigmata of my soul, My spirit draining Soothing wounds inflicted within abrupt lives, displaying their bloom too briefly.
Unable to anticipate the passages The circadian rhythms abruptly severed. My sad, empty soul.
