A man, passing a certain point
on a certain sidewalk,
looks back,
reflects upon his being
and is beset by memories.

The sweet fragrance of her perfume;
Her hair, like silken scarves.
The touch of her body with skin so soft.
All taken away but a lifetime too soon.

And a promise to never love again…

He tries to forget what he has remembered
but the floodgates open wide,
pouring out into a paramount vision
of his life without living.

He sees her in the clouds
(They form her silhouette)
He hears her voice in the night
(The wind carries her song)
He feels her in his very soul
(Yearning to break free)

Tears flow, his vision is obscured by hazy clouds.
He sees her in the gloom ahead.
Is it her?  He can’t tell.
She turns around, face full in front
of his tear blurred sight.

No, it isn’t her
but she is there.

It happened so fast, he doesn’t believe.
He wouldn’t let go he steadfast truth
that love cannot live
after pain, suffering and grief
have left signs of passing.

But not now.

Inside his heart a feeling begins to break
the chains of self-pity
imprisoning him for so long.
They are wrenched apart,
torn,
broken,
and bleeding.

The promise breaks free from it’s cold,
dark prison and flies away,
blown on the breeze to fall
unnoticed to the street.

And this man takes her hand in his.
He had found his love again; he would never let it go.
“Do you love?” she whispered,
and whirling around, whisked him into
the still, cold night;
laughing, then falling silent.

He remembers a day from his youth...

Orange liquid streams from a tumbled treat
and fills sidewalk cracks near a heat-waved street.
Whimpers arise from the teary-eyed one
as the flat wooden stick dries in the sun.

Money exchanged for a hot day’s respite
in an unwrapped indulgence, he tried to hold tight.
Held for a moment, then slipped from his fingers
with the taste in his mouth, the memory lingers.

Dejected, downtrodden, frustrated, sad
with sodden, upturned eyes to his dad.
Expectant of something more to restore
the loss of his delicacy; “Please, some more?”

No more to be had, the currency spent,
in the hands of the man in the window it went.
The tears on his face in rivulets ran,
like the sugary brook flowing under the van.

Fast forward future, that day from his past
comes rushing to mind as he stands there aghast.
Phone in hand falls as his eyes well with tears.
The thought of all those incomplete years…

She told him she’s leaving, she’ll be gone tonight.
“I haven’t loved you for years, it hasn’t been right.”
No words or explaining, no reason, no love.
Just a lost lonely life, something undreamed of.

He feels like the child from that hot summer’s day
when something he wanted and loved slipped away.
And just like that moment the treat left his hand,
and just like a child who can’t understand…

That no amount of money or pleading in vain
will ever bring back what was lost once again.
But now as a man, he holds his head high
And faces the day, and his hardest goodbye.

He looks to the future…

How many times has it happened before?
I can’t remember,
I’ve locked the door
and imprisoned the memories
that bring back the pain
which tortures my soul
again and again.

The key to the lock
is inside my heart,
and every time
it's broken apart,
the key tumbles to the dusty floor
to be used by love
to open the door and let the memories
run free once more.

The love that opens the door is not real;
an imposter, a fake
its only there to steal
and to make me feel
like it had all been real
but in truth it was only a lie.

Each time the door is opened wide
the memories held captive inside
crawl out of their holes to once again
take from my mind what might have been
and changes it into one of them;
a nightmare of love, a malignant memory.

But this time I think the pain will subside
in less time than before; I feel it inside.
I’ve captured the memories in no time at all
and returned them to their prison wall.
This time the key to open the cell
is thrown away, but you never can tell.
So I’ll change the lock and replace the key
and hope the memories will let me be.

There she is-
see her?
She’s walking this way-
To me?
I don’t know,
What do I say?

She beautiful and ****…
Shh!  Bite your tongue!
She heard you, you fool!
Now here she comes.

Keep your cool.
Don’t mess around.
Look right at her
and tell her you’ve found
the most precious jewel,
a priceless treasure,
a woman with beauty
beyond all measure

Do it now, before she goes by
(My god, I can’t even look her straight in the eye).
She’s closer now-
Do you think she knows?
I don’t know…
…but there she goes.

Sitting on my back porch I see
the gentle spark.
Starting small, it gains new height
and intensity,
becoming a burning light.

It quickly grows, sometimes fast,
sometimes slow, but always moving.
Its path is made behind;
black,
burned,
and lifeless.

Fear escapes my conscious mind
and quickly radiates outward,
I look to my right and the field
is a sea of color;
green,
red,
then black.

Blocking the sun is a billowing
haze of blue.
Sounds of emergency, sounds of anxiousness,
the silent scream of a dying field.

A quick spray and the flames are gone.
Excitement dies, sounds disappear
and I soon return to my chair
relaxing and thinking about
fire,
death,
and rebirth.