Laying here in
The dark a
Candle winking at
Me from the
Dresser listening to
Debussy delicately bob
Above me like
Late summers fireflies
I remember now
The feeling of
Your finger tips
Dancing on my
Arm like slowly
Creeping Ivy pulling
Me in tightly
Like mother’s embrace
And warding off
The chill of
That one nighttime
So long ago
Our sweet September
Together in Valencia
I don’t miss
You or us
I miss me
When in love
What I see
Now of me
Is like looking
Into a steamy
Mirror seeing the
Outline of something
Like disappearing into
The fog of
Cool wet August
Mornings of Frisco
There but not
Ghoulishly awaiting resurrection
The root of
Ignorant is ignore
Finished with rant
Likely expressed by
Ranting about what
One ignores unlike
Understand whose root
Is stand preceded
By under likely
Expressed by standing
For that which
Is seen as
Less than you
One is noble
The other cowardice
There’s this place
When naked you
Stand downtrodden and
Weary cold shivering
Like that last
Leaf clinging to
The last branch
On the last
Day of October
When someone like
A tugging wind
Pulls you up
And says sweetheart
This thing that
You think that
You are isn’t
You
You are the
Thing that you
Are to me
And to me
You’re not the
Last of something
But the beginning
Of something else
I used to
Think that love
Could only be
Found where my
Lips meet another’s
Until I learned
That kisses often
Bring eventual betrayal
Better bring me
Your arms hold
Me up as
I hold you
Keep your kisses
Like the sun
Says to the
Storm surely you
Don’t think that
You can diminish
My light by
Bringing your rain
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 