(PAD #055): apocola (1) I see

I will be dead
while you are still
in our palliation

know
I have loved you
too well

hardly
at all

I have taken
everything
you
so willing
gave me

taken it
as though it were
mine alone

everything

as though
my own

for me

.
.
.

have I really
cared
for you

debatable

I recall
that one time
I planted a small tree
in the brown loam

that was for you
my
payment
I suppose

something meant to say

I know
what I have done

I know
what I
have cost

I know . . .

it was
nothing

and I thought
nothing

.
.
.

we orbit
differentially
you and I

I spin fast
you
are slower

but
I have noticed you
gaining on me
in time

and I will be
first
but
not by so very long
no longer
by so very much

and my tree
will go
sometime
between us

a symbol of
nothing
in the end

for a gesture
may be soothing
but
is not palliative

a sapling
does not suffice
for that

.
.
.

today beneath
a wide blue sky
I contemplate the sun
and the wind

I ponder
water
and consider
dinosaurs

I think about the nature
of delusion
versus the lifeline
of hope

sometimes
a fine line is all
that there can be

and it seems it doesn’t matter
anymore
which side of that line
I stand

I will be dust
buried
just within
beneath
your mantle

the dead
lying
within the
nearly dead

I would take your hand
if I knew the way
to that

here near the end
perhaps
we could embrace

but
I contemplate the weather
contemplate my life
contemplate
the end

I think I saw
the wind
spell a word in the dust
in the sky
that read

futility

what I see
all
that I know
has been

futility

______________________________________________________________________________

Would you like to be notified about changes and developments in my writing world, new poetry collections and giveaways?

Subscribe to my monthly Newsletter here

4 thoughts on “(PAD #055): apocola (1) I see

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.