Decades worth of journals
(once my daily confidante)
lie under the bed
untouched,
gathering dust.

The record of my past
does not entice ,
has not for what seems
like forever.

As for the here and now,
the pages of my last birthday gift
are empty, unless you count
maudlin entries typed and printed
out of pure laziness.

My past can never be retrieved,
never relived except as
sometimes vivid memories.
My present is of little interest these days,
future hopes only a mirage
(for what seems like forever).

I have no wish to relive today,
spilling my guts on blank pages
for posterity,
even while despairing for
a better tomorrow.

Eileen Auger
10/01/2014

No one ever knows
What lies behind secret smiles
Masking inner pain.

E. Auger
9/8/14

She tells him "I love you",
long after his physical presence
is nothing but ashes feeding flowers,
knowing her declarations
go nowhere but into
the vast, empty universe.

She glances at his photo,
flat, one-dimensional,
and yearns to hold him
once more in real time--
not only in her memories--
despite knowing
that is an impossible fantasy.

Eileen Auger
7/30/14

When people asked
my dear friend,
early in her widowhood,
"How are you doing?"
she would wryly reply
"Waiting to die... and you?"

After all these years alone,
I am not asked that question
anymore, in the same way--
The assumption being
that my grief is a thing of the past.
Most people, I have noticed
Just want to talk about themselves, anyway.
But if asked, I might just say
(with relish at their astonished look),
"Waiting to die... and you?"

Eileen Auger
7/28/14

FRIENDS OR NOT?

At the banquet table of Life.
Some friends will share with you
a sumptuous feast,
everything from soup to nuts.

Others will offer to split an entree,
an appetizer or two,
maybe even dessert
if they are so inclined,

Then there are
the so-called friends
who give away all their treats to others,
leaving you with nothing but leftovers.

This is when you realize
it's all about them,
(which they never "get")
And you walk away.

E. Auger
7/14/14

Why am I here?
Why, why, why?
What is the point?
Who cares, anyway?
People say I matter,
but really, I don't,
in the grand scheme of things.

Eileen Auger
6/26/14

Honeybunny has left the building.
Not dead like Elvis,
more like a walking zombie
dying by inches.
Is she angry at Fate's cruelty?
Does bitterness draw her
into a pit of lonely despair?
Will she ever recover
her ability to laugh
trust, hope, believe in life?
Her sparkle has dimmed,
eyes gone flat and gray,
blinded by loss and pain,
wondering why she fails to see
beauty that others take for granted.
Honeybunny (as he knew her)
has vanished into the void.

Eileen A
2007