Time + Space

I’m sure that there are words

to describe this feeling,

but I just can’t seem to grasp them

right now.

We are so far apart,

it doesn’t matter what I say.

I call out,

but you don’t hear me.


I guess I could have sent you letters;

sent pictures of who I am

and tried to bridge the gap

of miles

and years

with inane play-by-play descriptions

of the weather.


Truth is,

we never agreed on enough

to value each other’s opinion

and if respect is earned,

we both weren’t inclined to give.

I know you tried,

but now it doesn’t matter.

Nothing matters now.


The hoar frost is thick this morning.

Jewelled adornments

on every tree and surface.

It dusts the valley

with a regal white,

so pure

that you don’t even miss the green.

Who knew that desolation

could be so beautiful.


I think I’ll take a walk

down to the river later.

There’s a spot where the water’s open

and there’s whitefish there.

I tie my lines

and bait my hooks

the way you taught me

and I am wary of the edge

for good reason.


Time and space have a way

of dulling pain.

I’ve heard that if we remembered pain,

it would drive us crazy.

So maybe I’ve been crazy,

the crazy guy can never tell.

Maybe that’s just how some of us deal

with painful memories,

with life,

with time and space.


I think it’s about time

to get out into the cold,

let it sink into my bones

and spend some time

in the space

of my memories.


HG – 2017

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