Vigil

I put another flower on your grave today
The ones I placed before were losing color in the shade
Were growing duller as they grayed,
For, like a little congregation, they were dying where they pray

I placed a pair of roses there before your tomb
The other ones, I guess, had been devoured by the snow
And so they cowered, hidden low
For, like the severed things they are, they were bereft of ways to bloom

I placed another tulip where your body rests
Yesterday, an orchid, and tomorrow, daffodils
But like a sorrow seeks to kill
They seem to wither like a promise that we never had to test

I brought a new bouquet, it’s all I had to spare
I’ve brought so very many but they never seem to last
As if forever is the past
Because I know you’re still alive and I’m just waiting for the day you meet me there

October

As though a singer flawed my notes were sung in self-deception
While altering reception in the tone that chose to linger
I let my fingers run along your smoothest imperfections
And played a record full of grooves the way you used to love to

The underlying static was a sheet beneath the cadence
Bereft of all conveyance, though in ways more satisfying
Intensifying everything except the swift abeyance
That left a lonely echo in the missing song made of you

And maybe holding on to all the dim reverberations
As if elaborations of a letter left unfolding
Withholding all the sentiment, we killed considerations
And hid the pain in satin like the way poetic gloves do

With elevating tension growing ’round a waning smile
Like phantoms in denial of the hell that’s now awaiting
I’m fading with the memory that matches my exile
And wonder if you feel the weight I do recalling how I used to love you