Somewhere in my red-stone
cliff of memory
Is a place where lost dreams hide.
tucked away among the petals of dead flowers,
strewn out on late night streets of the city,
strung out on the notes of a lonely horn,
wandering inside forgotten years.
Inside that place are all my loves.
I am as lost with them as I
always was,
and I remember well.
Give me back once more the eyes of my love,
once filled with dreams.
I see those eyes,
buried beneath the poplars in the park.
Or were they lost in the clouds of that last day?
I am in no hurry to
experience
the last day of anyone I've loved,
but it comes on to me, relentless.
I can't hold back the night
any more than I can stop the loss.
so I take myself to that red-stone cliff
high above the thirsty desert of my life,
protected and insatiable with memory.
I will be a small hut
giving shelter on a lonely road,
a place where love has gone.
And if time finds a final day,
a day to release all lost dreams
with love's last days shining,
I shall be here –
an empty house, a fire burning,
waiting to receive my guests.
©Michelle
Maria Boleyn
