she haunts me
still

her last gaze

glassy sad
angry

wanting a hand
to squeeze

as she faded into sleep

I wish
I wish

I wish I wish I wish

I swallowed my pride
like bitter medicine

hugged her one last time
and said

it’s okay
let us fight

no more forever

Whit Howland © 2019

Prairie grass grows
again

on this treeless plain
and we’ve separated

the gold
from the dross

so much has been
restored

and there’s so much to be
grateful for

this plain stretches
past

what we can actually see

we are free to imagine

we are free

to dream

Whit Howland © 2019

I feel different than before

not so angry
restless
or confused

it’s only a spec
on this great canvas

a locomotive

puffing smoke

pulling a string of boxcars
through never-ending rows of corn

I’m moving forward now
not so fast mind you

just slow

steady progress

headed  out west
someplace

where it’s warm

Whit Howland © 2019

Snow covered branches frame

a barn

far off

and partially obscured
by blowing snow

did you get my note

I asked
if you were okay

you seemed so  distant

and so cold

© Whit Howland 2019

Ten Years
went by so fast

an anniversary
hard fought

and won

right now I'm sitting
with you
at a sidewalk cafe

the Left Bank
Paris

a dog barks
and pigeons warble
and scramble for

scraps on the cobblestones

the sun shines

may it always do so

on us now
when we first met
and in the days weeks and years to come

© Whit Howland 2019

I have no context
for you or
who you once were

I only know you in sepia tones
and grainy photography

today with your chipped sign  
and burned out neon

it's though
you are mute and dying

before my eyes


and you'll slip away
taking your secrets

and confessions
with you as you go

© Whit Howland 2019

A sliver
I thought there would be more

light

at the end

after walking
over hot coals
on glass

yet light

so small
even less than a sliver

like a pinprick

they said
you’d give me what I need

but I want
I want

more light

no

more

of the words and music
that have always failed me

Whit Howland © 2019