Haunted places and haunted memories.

Haunted places and haunted memories.

(April is poetry month. New poem number nine.)

I wear the white crystal you gave me in 1992. The necklace feels more heavy with time and distance.

I learn in old age. When we are young, the illusion of love can be forever.

We learn to accept the shadows of love kisses and the dark mirrors of things lost.

The only things we can save are the memories.

Once dear lover, we were fearless and seeking everything.

Now old age had slowly stolen our dreams and hope.

Now we accept what is given.

I told Lake St. Clair, love shattered like thin glass and cannot be repair.

Now the house is quiet and the leftover smells of once complete life.

I didn’t know. In old age, we would be haunted places and haunted memories.

Did I forget? Or did time steal away my kindness.

I went to the Clinton River, and I sat near the flowing river.

I asked the Goddess of the lake. Please give the energy of yesterday.

Coyote