If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away---Henry David Thoreau

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

A Love Once Past: Poem from the early 70's

Love was once a still blue moment
Pasted to my mind like a catalog of iridescent colors
But time stole the colors from my eyes
and has turned them into gnarled tumbleweeds
blowing in the desert wind

The hurt was etched into my body like a sailor's tattoo
A mistaken love has left its scar upon my tissues
Its sting lasted the morning and grew from within
to eat at my consciousness, for what seems an eternity

Pregnant with thoughts of self-condemnation
I searched for the truth, but the tongue of life
found only the bitter taste of a love gone by,
still echoing its melody in the caverns of my soul

But at last the echo is fading and leaving a hollow inside
The question begins to haunt me
Should I try to fill the deep hole of a love once past
or go on living, molded to a dream?

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