A Captive to Memory

A Poem

Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

the yarn unspools, gray and pink

cluttering the floor in uneven lines,

tracing a destination back to you —

where you sit like an indulgent parent

and wait for me to walk or fall

/

the waves crash against the shore,

foamy water pebbled with sand,

and I recall uneasy mornings —

you saying the coffee was already cold

and your disappointment was like a pall

/

the leaves fall, orange and red and yellow,

like all those emotions withering away,

till there’s nothing left but barren branches

reaching up to touch a sky that can’t be grasped —

just like this chasm between you and me

/

the trees now hang heavy with snow,

and I’m watching from a cabin window,

my fingertips against the frosted glass —

and I can’t help wondering where you are now,

such a silly question since your ghost still looks on