it was then,
sun drenched days
and star lit nights
the backyard splashed
in the hose soaked grass
or on white snow
under cloud castle skies
with family – close.
but as the years went by,
and freedom roared
love intruded – or so it seemed –
and weighed down, like a ball and chain,
on days – hung – more and more,
between long, lost nights
of secrets – hidden or forgotten –
or blotted out in numbness
to the words:
the fearful words –
the endless questions –
the pleading ultimatums
and the lies – the choking fog of lies.
then came – a paralytic, cold, bitter silence
that erupted, finally,
like a bomb
into angry, aching, howling, hurt, good-byes
. . . and ended . . .
gone, with all peace . . . . . . . . .
into a black descent – rapid and cruel –
and the empty hollow of having tossed away
all that meant something . . . once . . . . . .
note: posted for Posts United.
photo: Canadian Prairies Shot From Car Window - W. Bourke
© 2015 Wendy Bourke