Of Mountains
One night she whispered our love in the past tense
Weaving together “lived”, “laughed”, and “loved” as deftly measured sutures
But all I wanted to hear was “I love you” without hesitance
And not how the roads we chose marked the split of our futures
She departed to the mountains to ascend on her own
In the plains I remained, while on my tired breath
Flowed the deep western air so far away from home
But the stench of the lab returned me to cadavers and death
Back home we were raised two country roads apart
Flanked by patches of red dirt on which I’d roamed all my life
I begged for a homecoming, though I found deep in my heart
She was far more than the title of Dr. So-and-So’s wife
Oh God, like unto Job, deliver me from my senses
That yearned for children, a dog, and white picket fences
And free me from these feelings imposed by cruel Egyptians
For the pain of an unrealized life exist no prescriptions.
Posted May 30, 2016, 5:35 AM UTC