“Triumph” precedes this “tragedy” — Lo! no
Literal “inevitable” could possibly be
Bound with aspect of earthly capacity.
Yea! no joy we know for her’s forsaken.
If the clay beneath our feet ain’ shakin’.
We want things. That’s all. Let us not forget that
We have so much.
What little comfort shall I know within
This heartless mind that knows no end?
Can I make demands of the ones I love? Should I?
Or shall I give myself to another who needs me?
As depression ascends and winter approaches, a decisive shift
Happening round the annual theft of precious dawn
Stolen as so much to be invested in seemingly someone
Always else, leaving behind only an hour of darkness
A goddess she might be, but she’s one of us,
With pains and joys, she is no god.
Fifty words for what might come and go, if it does.
Between now and whenever what comes, if it doesn’t.
Take what you have. What you have need not be taken
From the hands of an other and it can be shared
Without limit. Be strong.
I’ll remind myself to be thinking of you.