The bend

Hearing without listening
For it is not by words alone
That we find what is our own

With tears to a flame
Affirming in denial
The possibility of a name

Desires turned to stone
Scoured pathways
A Requiem for requite to atone

It is not the dried hollow that was once a well
But the absence of a sparkle
That signed the death knell

Holding what was dear
Haloed in soft memory
Making it easier to bear

There is hope in the warmth
In caresses of habit
Unbound, as they were formed

Words casually tip mid flight
Tripping up in hindsight
Stern morning’s intent

The bend in the road
Has been put there with a mind
Unseen beyond is the end


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s