My Path

I have felt much in this life.
I won’t use a metaphor for tears.
There has always been a path
That led me through my fears.

Love comes like a blue moon night,
With its bitterness and its bliss;
And I have seen it burn on a pyre;
And felt it in each lover’s kiss.

I have felt my heart break
And I won’t relate much now;
But I shall salute its endurance
And how it kept every vow.

I have lost and lost and yet won,
For in losing, I’ve seen life grow;
And as I ache and blossom,
I relearn the art of letting go.

Old Song

I heard an old song
Sing its pain;
It reminded me
Of us again.

Old songs do that:
Sifting their tune,
Cradled on lost stars
And a forgotten moon.

The words aren’t the same:
They are rusty hooks
And dried old flowers
In dusty books.

It always befalls
That the singer is me;
And what we were
Becomes his melody.

It’s three minutes
Of our past;
Yet, it’s these three
That will last.

Swollen Feet and New Tears

It’s 5:30am;
My feet are swelling;
I may die.
I don’t know why
Medicines haven’t helped.
Doctors have tried:
Augmentin and ecosprin,
Dexa and para,
Haven’t yet seemed to win.
New fear is assailed –
I’m not fearful of death –
I have lived a nice life
And when I die,
I’ll be free of strife.

A moment to smile
That I’ll die younger,
And yet quite satisfied
All of my hunger.
Come morning,
If I survive,
I’ll have new fears,
I’m wondering if living
Is worth the new tears?