"Remember..."

There ARE three poems here (black, gray, and brown) - unique, standalone, and …one… the last line ends all three - just so ya know.

 

 

Life seldom happens as we wish - though we live it as we can.  People appear, get close and then life seems to happen.  No rhyme, no reason.  And we walk on - at least we try …to walk on.  It isn’t always about Love but just maybe it is.  We each have our memories of being “touched” and sometime we do say “Goodbyes”.  And sometimes we don’t.  It isn’t that memories sneak up on you …sometimes any old Tuesday will do …and when it isn't a Tuesday?  Well, I've never been perfect …just me.

 

Each morning I always pour a mug - black and strong, the steam rising.

 

Then walk over to the window,

draw the curtains wide.

 

"Remember…"

 

Today,

I stood there watching the morning

as the chill dawn's mist floated and spread

 

…watching, waiting…

 

while the sun broke 

the mind's grey     just so …slowly

…I felt the glass shiver and begin to weep 

as the sky's tears gathered close outside

and inside oh so gently began to fall.

 

Tap…

tap… come in, come in…

 

…and the sound…

and the sound…

 

you…

 

See I…

I heard your voice inside

…again… 

and the mind's myst

grew and spread,

and I felt fingertips graze my cheek -

 

just the wind -

just …the wind…

 

and another tomorrow wrapped my heart

with all the softness in the world

and closed so tight - 

so very, very     tight

…and it hurts,

hurts so 

…holds …me…

as I remembered…how

 

just seeing your eyes 

 

…just a silly      single      damn      pic

of you …gazing out toward

your world - from a diner table…

 

still fills me

with a lifetime's dreams 

behind my eyes…

 

How…

 

 

We used to talk - lil things -

timeless     things,

nothing     things -

moments good and 

…well, some that weren't.

 

We shared being    us -

and how it meant

and what we saw and felt.

We gave each other

each other - I chuckled and you - 

you laughed -

and we cried and…

 

                    Life happened

                    as it always seems to do and

                    time just drifted off…

 

We never talked of endings

even as we said "…goodbye…"

 

                    You've finally got your mountains

                    …and the eagles

                    and I've 

                    … I've coffee and the sunrise.

 

and memories of the magyk

ride my soul.

 

                    I've not forgotten you nor

                    the moments

                    but this now…

                    this     now

                    echoes and echoes with 

                    my own breath and heartbeats.

 

 

…and I remember… I do…

 

I remember…

 

Chris

 

 

 

Author's Note

Feel free

Reviews

[J. J. Nightingale]

Hearts died
I remember when
Now I pray at sunrise
To forget
To forgive

There you go again Chris..touching my heart..

Jazz ♥

[Jennesis]

There's something about the morning ritual that allows us reflection on what's 'now' and what was then. This touches my soul Chris. Beautiful metaphor about the knocking, yet 'twas only a memory from then. Lovely.

[Chris]

I'm glad you found this one touched ...you.

[Amber Lily]

This is enchanting! Your poem made me feel so many things, things I suppose one should feel when recalling the past. I've never read anything in this style before, although I did notice that you prefer to free style write. Which is one of the best forms of writing in my opinion :)

[Chris]

I appreciate the thoughts and your sharings. Hope you come by when you can and pause with me.

[David Scott]

Wow!
You read my poem today so you know I was in this same state of mind... You poetry here is far beyond anything I could write, but is captures well the experience; the memory.
I wish I could convey how prescious your words read to me this morning.
Thank you sincerely for this gifted poem.

[Chris]

I read this one last night during the World Poetry Open Mic broadcast... you ever get the chance to come by you should.

http://www.worldpoetryopenmic.net/

They also archive their broadcasts so others can relisten when they want.

[David Scott]

I get the invitation weekly. I've never been yet. I will have to try it out.
A true special poem to my heart...