The night roars down upon me …
You turn aside …
ears remotely tuned in to mute …
What do I do?
When the cry of your recluse,
Is louder than the cry of my heart?
It’s as if my cries are removed from the room.
Why does none of this compute?
Tell me the place on earth
Where we are not so far apart …
There I will go,
And I will carry along my heart.
The night roars down upon me …
And you, into sleep are far removed.
You once offered covering …
Now, it’s as if you yourself are buried.
You slipped over the edge of the earth,
Sailing past, into the last isle of the sea.
You say not good by …
You say not, my name as you leave.
© 2011 jan leree