By expatriate

Tonight I think of you with great tenderness
I sweep aside the rubble of our years
to see you clear of their shadows
Tonight I remember you without passion...tenderly...
as a runaway child is recalled on the eve of Christmas.
All the beliefs and customs ignored
The rules we by-passed, we scorned the wisest counsels
And perjured ourselves just to stay in love.

I hear you whisper like tiny feathers in my ear
Clicking off the years until that old moment
In a strange land, only to be together and alone   
When you were glad of my arms
And we were lost in an undeserving world
Where the weapons were gold, guns . . . a missionary
As innocents succumbed to threats and promises
In that place where we could never belong.

I cannot tell you who we would have been
I am a poet, not seer or evangelist
I cannot see the shape of tomorrow
In the patterns of tea leaves
Nor read prophetically
Between the lines of a dream.
I am condemned to the lesser things
Of bread and love, hope and resignation.

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2016 expatriate
Published on Monday, March 7, 2016.     Filed under: "Poetry"
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Comments on "OF LESSER THINGS"

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  • A former member wrote: "I am a poet, not seer or evangelist I cannot see the shape of tomorrow" I truly admire all your work and the way you create such intensity in a poem. Great work!

  • expatriate On Tuesday, March 8, 2016, expatriate (121)By person wrote:

    Ah, I can always count on you to say the kindest things. Thank you for your praise, deserved or not.

  • Broken doll On Monday, March 7, 2016, Broken doll (18)By person wrote:

    Such pain and love, warmth and longing. Beautiful, thank you for sharing.

  • expatriate On Monday, March 7, 2016, expatriate (121)By person wrote:

    Tlhank you for yuou visit and kind words.

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