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Monday, July 16, 2012

YOUNG LOVE, It Drifts Away

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It Drifts Away

At the time we had met the mask of youth
And its costume were still upon you.

Then, the next year, 9/11, it marked the city forever,
Downtown burned, towers had fallen, and all the dead,
Though today, very hard to believe,
The smell dominated the air,
Yet there it was during the last days of December.
All the way to West 26th Street,
A bad omen, I guess.

I remember that first Christmas Eve,
The one prior to the attack, later you confided,
It was your first, and the only Holiday Season,
You had ever spent in New York.

You were different then, more girl
Than the grown woman you are today.

You had bought silver jewelry,
I was at market and you stood before the showcase,
Studied the pieces, awaited me to make the move
And price to drop, bargained without word,
Used patience as your tool, you figured,
I was in a hurry, wanted to get home.

It seems halcyon, as I look back.
Business was good here in the City,
The year before the attack.

When I picture you, recall your eyes,
Expectant, be-all, the end-all,
Tomorrow’s promise, stayed awesome and bright,
I want to say, etched,
But no lines, at that time, visited your face.

You were different then, more girl
Than the grown woman you are today.

And you appeared happy, light upon your feet,
I judge your back had not come to bother you yet.
You had a man, and you relished in his friendship,
Maybe you wished the start to family,
Saw for yourself a real, happy ending, hey?

My defenses were still intact,
No idea that you would come to play
The lead role in a dream-wish drama,
Whose title read, cherished, cherished above all others,
Yet, once I fell within the sphere of your limbs,

All good sense and sensibility abandoned, I was yours.

The pleasure of your company engulfed me.
Simply placing my hand upon your knee,
Oh heart beat, beating fast, lasting long, day after day,
Together, no matter what I might have done,
However I might have conspired to end it.

You said, love, now and forever,
I know it’s trite, nothing I should write,
Unworthy of poetry, your promise,
Yeah, until the end of time, and you,
Today I feel, as if, you had purposefully played me,
You laughed at notion, desire might ever wane,
Though love might be only a feeling,
You swore ours here to stay.


Anyone who seeks,
Fervidly wants dreams-come-true,
Gets the sense of what I am saying, knows
The terrible desire, that were it possible,
A replay of yesterday’s grassy splendor,
To enjoy again the glory in the flower,
Despite the rapid descent, the finality marking,
Every bit of human radiance and beauty,
No matter how grand, ambitious the effort,
-- Isn’t it already written? --
The rainbow comes and goes,
Some where out at space-time’s edge,
Gamma ray bursts post daily funerary notice.
Entire worlds disappear, who calculates that agony?

No human comprehends the sorrow;
Number and immensity overwhelm us,
And we might simply shrug our shoulders,
What answer when first pain, then life no more?

How impossible to variegate the progress,
When once we have reached finality,
Great, bright light, then extermination!

And for us, for you and me, it is same story.
Anguish, the very definition,
To cling to silly notions, and hold them right,
When the telephone is off the hook,
And all the doors are shut.

World knows, love, only a feeling,
It drifts away, and, I, fool, believed, I believed,
I thought at odds, forgot the foreboding,
Paid no heed to events, the remains, I forgot
That one happy Christmas does not guarantee another,
Instead, sure we had mastered our affections,
Our land, the land called Eden,
Positive we had won, and continued the delusion
That, and as you had promised, ours was special,
And contrary to every dictate of reason,
I had come to believe that we had found it,
Love, here to stay, warm sun, morning after morning,
Endless awakening, fresh flowers everyday,
A bed with gorgeous sheets and pillows fluffed,
Despite love, it being only a feeling,
Like the youth, we at one time owned, and
Had been our possession, it drifts away.

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