Stop-loss

Missing missing you
gradation of time
or love
half what I expected
half what did I expect

Waiting for the sun
to receive its snuffing
our observed silence
never agreed

Charity to memory
to motes that dance
in a dying light

You’d hate that notion
just the right amount

Hate these scant remains

Advertisements

Late Night Shopping

When I found the words
the first time
you had just left

I wavered
on whether to chase
to catch you at your car
adorn in pen on hand
a list

Remember love
as I am fresh out
having given it all to you