© 2012 RC deWinter ~ All Rights Reserved
Sitting alone in the congealing dusk that falls slowly,
determinedly, across the horizon over the river,
opening myself to whatever feelings are abroad
on this dying autumn Sunday,
my mind slips back
a few decades,
a few years,
a few months,
remembering days of unworthiness,
nights of regret,
hours of repentance I’d like to forget.
Old ghosts of longing roam unbidden
through the wilderness of my emotions.
Pictures of lovers, some real and some not,
crowd my consciousness
as I contemplate a future of emptybed blues
suffused with harsh mornings, anesthetized nights,
roiling and rocking
through the unending alienation of
and all the rest of that shit,
only wishing for the occasional hand to hold,
chest to caress,
shoulder to sleep on
during the numbcold nights of millennium winters.
I have abandoned the dream of a love everlasting,
relinquished belief in a life everlasting,
have come to embrace the aloneness of me
slipped into the rough cloak of reality.
Surrendering calmly to nighttime’s siren pull,
knowing there’s more
but incapable of finding or perhaps recognizing it,
I prepare to settle for the will-o-the-wisp embraces
of a man who never was
and never will be,
love neverlasting amen.
© 2012 RC deWinter
Shadows fall as the late sun slants across an
old-fashioned Worcester, Massachusetts porch.
Digitals oils; taken from a photograph by Terry Travers.
Tech specs: Photoshop 7, Filter Forge 3, Subtle Additions,