A poem

Beyond weary platitudes
poetry lingers,
out of reach of my ingratitude
beyond mean calculations
poetry lingers,
wrapped in bloody cloths
soaked in tears
of a thousand internal shocks
of closed doors and locks,

Poetry lingers,
in the pause between short breaths
exhausted, depleted
both victorious and defeated
exultant for no cause
built only to follow laws
we pause and find
poetry lingers in the human mind.

Poetry lingers
in the light of her eyes
the hope
that it never dies, the yearning
for meaning
in dark halls where the silver balls
once stood
only the remnants remain
and in the debris of our pride
deep inside,
poetry lingers.

Circles radiate on the ponds’ surface
the swans glide through
as reeds dance in time
to the winds low moans, there on the bank
we sat once
as the world rolled on and over all
who spoke out
in their long-lost shouts
poetry lingers.

CP26