Victorian

Lathe and Plaster 10/27/2014

Today I am wordless

As my mind leaps

From place to place

Random, disjointed

Fearful and sad.

I am guarded

And I am alone

Untouchable in my chair

High above the street.

I can’t go back

And I can’t make it right

No matter what I wish

Or how hard I try.

It’s not enough

But it’s all I can offer  

An invisible promise

Suspended in air. 

There are many things

That I have dreamed

Some impossible

But others

I do not know. 

None of it, dies easily

And all of it hurts

Yes, even the good times

Unappreciated, and unfinished.

If I could

I would go back

And absorb every detail

Because memory

Only scratches the surface.

I want to crawl through

The attic tunnel

And follow it

All around the eaves.

I want to tear off the wood

Behind the fireplace

Uncovering the passage

That my father

Had forbidden. 

I want to climb the roof

And sit on a lawn chair

Watching the sunrise

Pink, red, and orange. 

Something, anything

Meaningful and authentic

Physically alive

And spiritually aware.

There is so much more

Than this day will show

As we keep our peace

And sigh in our sleep. 

We carve our names

But never return

Wasting away

And picking at our scabs.   

The past is like a haunted house

Like the one I grew up in

Viewed through a foggy lens

A beautiful and secretive ruin.    

The silent dead

Have no voice

And the silent living

Have no choice.

Half alive

And half asleep

Half understood

Mild, meek and dumb.