What Future Writes in Poetry is the Window to the Soul...

Tell me sorrow
Thy own true name
The howling winter withers
Seeks marks to blame

Disparate fellows
Relations stripped and strained
The candle mourns; flickers
And you are gone again

Only truth, winter
Serve the hands that frame
What a beautiful disaster
It was when you and I mattered

So long since gone
Like the candle, we flicker
Goodbye old flame

February 26, 2020

It’s been a minute.