February 4, 2005
I am closer to your memories
than I am to myself.
You were the sand
packed around my heart
when my life was preparing
to paddle out of reach.
You were always there
to listen to my waves of need
even when your ears were hurting
from your own concerns.
Now a wall is inside me
where you used to be.
But you aren’t there to help
the waves move through it.
A soldier guards the wall
that has become brittle
because he is
so needed.
He keeps your memories
on one side of the wall
so I can survive without you
on the other side.
Every time I let the soldier off duty
he waves his finger at me
and stands in the water
as his job gets harder.
I’m in an unknown
mass of loss that I have
to paddle against
to get through.
Sometimes it is like a next door neighbor
and other times it is in the house of my heart.