Many Years

In this good place I have paper
and ink but not the sound
of your breathing. I have
the sound of trucks passing
and the birds that sing at dawn.

The sun shines all day
but the owls called from a tree
that I cut down out of spite.
I have mulberry trees
and deep shade in memory
but I have forgotten the little
lines around your eyes.

I see that I should stay
for many years, until death
quickens me to energy
and gives me particles
of laughter to remember you
in the next good place.

J. Kyle Kimberlin
4.28.2013

Creative Commons License
Many Years by J. Kyle Kimberlin is licensed
under a Creative Commons Attribution-
NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License
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