May
I wrote you no poetry this year.
No laments.
No grievances
held.
There comes a time
when the intensity of pain subsides
and memories become scars.
In time they will become mere thoughts.
May
a month of farewells
and sudden
abrupt goodbyes.
Cruel severance.
and the beginning of years of stumbling
through a no man’s land
tangled in barbed wires
and shards of life.
***
Now May
it was part of the Cycle,
Difficult as it was to comprehend,
it was the point where all Paths converged
and no choice but to forge onwards
or lay down and die.
***
Rest now.
