Memories
By Michael A. Horvich

Memories of earlier times arrive
No longer to be there for me, or us
So I sit at computer and compose
And console self as best I can.

I sit on the summer warmed balcony
The grass and trees growing lush
On the roof deck garden below us
As this poem begins to blur.

My coffee steams in the hot sun
My toast: rye with raspberry jam
The birds chirp and tweet and twittle
As the cold tears wet my cheeks.

"May I come out and join you?" he asks
With an up turned questioning voice
"But off course you may and welcome!"
As I reply with sorrow's memory.

We talk about flowers below us growing
About the sun and clouds above us moving
We sit together quietly holding hands
As my memory is unable to quiet itself.

I stick my expecting bare feet into
His empty, sun warmed worn sandals
He suns his legs stretched over mine
And I wonder with whom can I cry?

Deep gasp after gasp after breath
Tears continuing to flood and fill
A sadness, an emptiness, a grief
So deep as to drown without hope.