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Broken


Gone like September

from the wind

Gone like the Robin

from its wing

Gone like a child

from its laughter

Gone like the memory

of Spring

 

Gone like the Priest

behind his vestments

Gone like the hours

from the day

Gone like the waves

atop the ocean

Gone like the months

that lead to May

 

Gone are the reasons

from excuses

Gone are the moments

trapped in time

Gone is today

from tomorrow

Gone is the magic

left behind

 

Gone are the memories

from recollection

Gone the beginnings 

from the ends

Gone every joy

from every sorrow

Gone what you broke

—but couldn’t bend

 

(Dreamsleep: June, 2022)

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Kurt Philip Behm

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