We never ever
Know the story
Behind the photograph
All the smiles
Hide the heartbreak
Like spoken lies
Hide the truth
Honesty is painful
Painted with thin
Brushes and softly
Heard as whispers
And gone as
Quickly like those
Late April snows
Or bicycle bells
That harken glee
So I promised
A poem to
You on Valentines
Day one day
When poems burst
From greeting cards
As quickly as
Sins in confessionals
On Good Friday
But this poem
Has but five
Simple words followed
By two others
Followed by your
One simple one
Word answer will
You be my
Valentine will you
Do you remember
When or how
We did meet
Hey or hello
But Piggy oh
Piggy we became
Friends and the
Occasional lover but
More you became
A vase in
Which the bouquets
Of my poems
Sat blossoming and
Blooming for the
World to see
Readers help me
Wish Piggy a
Warm birthday on
This happiest happiest
Happy of days
Happy Birthday Piggy
And with one
Quick stroke of
A freshly dipped
Pen came a
Thin dark and
Scratchy word love
It either frightens
Or it invites
But never calms
Or quiets hearts
Unless of course
It can’t be
Heard or read
And by then
Remains as silent
As the snow
Just as cold
Read it and
Hear it now
And in spring
And then summer
We are alone
Popping and absorbing
Sweet the rain
And warm sun
But then fall
Arrives as bitter
Chilling winds which
Tug and pull
Us harshly limb
From limb until
Torn we tumble
Down landing upon
Each other learning
That we all
Aren’t that different
We simply think
That we are
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 