kneeling on a dead man’s house,
clouds massed together over the tall trees,
replete with warm tears.
he left one day and never said why…
a smile that
expected nothing from the world,
eyes that sought not happiness,
managed to exude both.
subtle in tone and articulation—
i’ve always admired that quality.
mumbling under my breath.
i’m not sure you were content,
but if you weren’t,
i blame myself.
flooded by guilt
pouring over the dam—
as if dying
were a shameful act.
rising abruptly from my position,
feeling sick and pensive.
you’re getting to be
an old lady, kiddo,
what are you gonna’ do?
somehow, i always manage to think of myself.
avarice and love:
the same instinct that has two names.