~for Bex~*

in the flesh, not really, but I was...

ordered five bone china coffee mugs for you,
from the Artists Gallery, all scenes of nature,
painted by Canada’s Group of 7,
to go with the Lawren Harris mug,
'Lakes and Mountains'
from which I am currently sipping

for when I thought of you up north in Ontario,
I thought of my mom,
who was Toronto born and bred,
and the caramel oranges of fall
that have not yet arrived
in northern Manhattan,
but have already peaked in Ontario,
in late September

I smile,
while voyaging on the curving line of thought perusal,
at all the things that have already peaked,
someplace else,
and that have may yet, be late, arriving in my life

and I dream of:

all the poets who
I will never meet,
the living and the dead,
all the poems,
I will never finish, perhaps, n'ere to start,
never chance to speak, or chance to peak

all of you, sipping, from those real mugs of porcelain,
that are soon to arrive, via an imaginary railroad,
running on creosote stained ties of caramel orange,
built by a namesake, that I can no longer imagine,
but whom I knew
so well in my youth

my mug is sadness filled by
those stillborn verses that will never chance to peak,
but am comforted by the knowing,
as long as there is freedom to write,
that there is hope for one more poem
to be imagined, sourced from deep within,
drawn from the cool well water
of happy wishing

These old poems...
Turn to new songs
As I dream sitting awake
All night long

And the days...
They will go by
As I regret demons past
And saying goodbye

But at least when I'm awake...
At 2 AM and thinking of you
I'll have these songs with me
And something to sing to.

stress builds up in the chest when you're left behind
to fend for yourself. when all else failed, you sailed away,
promising you'll return someday. but let me tell you my
friend, you're blessed. there's no need to dwell on the past
because at long last, my little castaway has found
herself back at the bay. but if you're gonna' stay
you better tie down. if you stray from the shallows,
you'll surely drown. this small town carries bigger lies,
there's much more here than meets the eye.
and i was worried sick about you,
ever since you left it was all i could do.
i can't control the tides, this i know.
but sometimes, it's so hard to let go.

© Matthew Harlovic