Sometimes the
Most painful
Memories and
Fears take
Years to
Expose buried
And hidden
Often best
Left to
Decompose we
Sat in
A park
Naked and
Drilled down
And while
Together the
Pain was
Gone but
Now alone
My exposure
Is beginning
To throb
Did I
Say too
Much did
You I’ve
Always thought
That the
More we
Say the
Stronger we
Are then
Why do
I still
Feel like
Crying today
I do
Know why
It’s the
Frostbite from
The truth
Napping he’s
Far away
He could
Be in
A boat
Off to
Sea or
On a
Mountain top
No closer
To me
I guess
This is
What you
Become the
Blissful silence
Of love
Always happier
After I
Write after
The weight
Of thought
Is carried
On the
Backs of
Words do
I then
Rest but
For a
Moment until
A trickle
Begins to
Pool then
Gather then
Lifted skyward
Forming on
Some far
Off horizon
Billowing until
All at
Once another
Saturating downpour
Of words
Impatient I
Await like
A child
Upstairs on
Christmas morn
Or the
Family dog
At the
Gate or
Even as
Cream for
Your coffee
Yet I
Don’t know
Which is
Sweeter the
Hope of
Happiness or
The memories
It brings
And if
You’re lucky
You find
A little
Piece of
Heaven on
Earth an
Orchid a
Skipping stone
Your laughter
Bean it’s
These small
Things that
Reminds me
That the
Joys of
Paradise indeed
Are around
Me every
Single day
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 