Memories seem to take a great deal
of courage to face...
let me catch my breath
and I'll explain.
How can I show you
what I see?
Or help you to feel
what I feel?
I remember there was a beach...
or a park
that we visited.
(Who visited?)
Doing nothing.
I remember those places
where happiness was finding
a new way to experience love with her...
Who?
The object of my love.
Who?
First her name was Celta
then she was gone
and the object of my love
was Lynn...
each at one time was
the one who loved me.
Happiness was so easy then.
YOU ARE READING
What Really Matters: Poems About Love, Loss, & Trauma
PoetryThis is a collection of poems inspired by love, loss of love, and other tragic and traumatic events that began in late July of 2000 - so some poems are about love and others about the loss of that love. This is my autobiography in poetry form. I had...
