Natural progression

Building a life

Do memories make a life?
Memories do make a life,
on a deathbed, looking back,
the mind becomes a scrapbook
with pages missing.

I always wanted to live
among the mountains
where the shadows of clouds
crawl like sneaking cats
across the cliff faces and the valleys.
I always wanted a life
of veritable joy upon waking
beside the warm body of a lover
and a puppy’s blinking awareness
from the foot of the bed.

You can call me selfish,
call me monstrous
for daring to carve a hollow
space for this wanting,
but every man is guilty
of some deforestation
to make space for a home.

The night sky plays no favorites
with where it drops its dew
or whose view of the moon
gets obscured by creeping cauls,
we must make due
with surviving the magnanimous tide
that gives and takes our breath,
and this gravity that allows our steps
without crushing our fragile frames.
These steps were always balanced
on a high wire between here
and not here.

0Shares

Leave a Comment

%d bloggers like this: