Of Loves Lost

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Last Hour With You

My last hour with you
will fear stricken be,
for after that last hour
you will be gone from me.

My last forty-five minutes
my heart will open up
and you will see my love
won't easily give up.

My last thirty minutes
will find me telling you
that you are the only one
that I could be true to.

My last fifteen minutes
will be the lonely ones,
for time will be so short
and then you will be gone.

My last minute with you
so short that I shall miss,
the wonder of your smile
and the sweetness of your kiss.







Perhaps when you called out

To me in your moment

Of pain, I should have

Come straight-away to

Hold you tight again.


Perhaps when your world

Grew so grim and you lost

Every friend, I should

Have called to

Let you know

All was forgiven then.


Perhaps when the moment

Came when you were

All alone and everyone

Abandoned you and dark

Your world had grown,

I could have taken

Just a moment to

Let you know I was there,


But you left without knowing

How much I really cared.


I’ve nothing left now 

I can give; I was a fool at best,

And as you grieve,

Please believe,

                I never loved you less.




Lamps are lit.  A frame

of glided light flickers

in the pines.  

Birds embrace secretly

in pairs on the branches

smiling smiles of benign.

I sit on the

ground below marveling at

the depth of the night.

Pierced by the mist my

heart sings a song that

offers no delight.

Traces remain of deep cuts…

I reach out into my own vanishing,

thoughts rise into the air, deliberate and slow,

harkening of my lonely bones

float toward the sky.

Pealing, I fill the cold night air

wondering why the suns

warmth is wasted on stones.

The 70’s soft rock whispered

Through the darkened film…

I could not help

But cry out…

“Love me with all your heart..”

Forever Dying



Before you I appear

As dead, lifeless sprawl

That you turn with

Your shoe, examining

Each scar, assessing

Every promise of

Dying hope.


I do not flip back

As your toe pokes,

For I know many

Ways to be dead.

You smile coldly

At my demise as

Bird does the worm,

Quickly digesting life.


I remain quiet, keeping

My death sacred

While gently

You tug at your laces.