We returned through dying

We returned through dying

the stars held our memories
as we returned home broken
a bit more broken each day
that was us growing old

the pinning for the shores of energy
with mouths cracked
and limbs incapable
and a heart blue from winter nights

this carved relief of humble art
so that our private drama
could begin again
so very much having passed

in the space between our years
and so little known about
the universe scattered like
a marathon of light and the curved face

of galaxies and that collapsed
worlds that once were in time
all was mystery, all was sinking
with altars destroyed, friends forgotten

the harvests of our travels were now gone
our youth has punctured our souls
and our spirits raced
into the eyes of strangers

in the future we barely recognized
maybe descendants, maybe ourselves
reincarnated with different stories
wounded by my soil

her fingers against the blue scarf
of decades, the pomengrante
that broke was full of stars
skies, people, poems, poetry
a single gull cried in evening.

Final Harvest

‘Tis not that Dying hurts us so
Love is dying in a different way
Being let go, like yesterday’s memory

By someone we still love –
‘Tis living, the ambush of little hurts
That aren’t so shrill if we make

Bliss, our mortal baseline
And bow to everything, and learn
‘Tis not that dreams pass too slow

It’s that we have a set number of choices
We can ever make, hitting Reset
Is not the same as an involuntary rebirth

‘Tis not that Dying hurts us much
Life is not the mourning attachment it once was
When our heart is broken forever, by one final episode
That allows us to live another way.

The Last Sunset

Sunset, so long I’ve waited
For your fantasy of color
That I could almost taste

The beauty between your fragile
Minutes, the aches of orange
The dusk of flashing pinks

I did not expect to ever find immersion
The kind where I could truly forget myself
But it was a necessary union with nature

Sunset, now that I’m finally in you
I look back at my self with the eyes of clouds
From pale blue warmth, sad goodbyes

I can’t stop the flood of inches of beauty
The river of time, glowing with sunsets
You bathe me in golden-yellows

This is the home-star I breathe in
As intimate, as the sound of rain

Sunset, so hold me here
I’m dying on the inside.