And so what shall we say
here at the end of day,
Here at the cold of fiery dusk
Before extending our feet
and hands
toward the hearty
crackling hearth?
The fire that blazes there
used to be
between
us
but has cooled
like the surface of
the moon,
and seems to have
fallen
down a crater
of its own making.
And so what shall we say?
‘Goodbye’ seems too trite.
‘Farewell’ is too polite.
And ‘so long’ has become
‘too long.’
Perhaps we shouldn’t say
anything.
And kiss.
© Alfred W. Smith Jr. 2015
Recommended reading on WriteHere: Autumn Falls – http://wh.tl/151027-2
Source: Autumn Falls
Recommended reading on WriteHere: Vigil – http://wh.tl/151026-4
Source: Vigil
Recommended reading on WriteHere: Dead of Winter – http://wh.tl/151024-11
Source: Dead of Winter
Recommended reading on WriteHere: Winter Dreams – http://wh.tl/151020-1
Source: Winter Dreams
Recommended reading on WriteHere: Azariel’s Faith – http://wh.tl/151015-10
Source: Azariel’s Faith
I’ll kiss you
in secret,
in shadow,
on
moonless, starless
nights,
feel the heat
of fevered lips
wipe away the
scarlet shade,
taste the
honeyed, sugary
cluster of
your tongue,
and
twirl my soul
into you,
lost in
Love’s
light
© Alfred W. Smith Jr. 2015
A sad, soggy,
cloudy night
marked the day
of your departure.
Your leaving
like a kiss my skin
was too numb
to feel.
We placed the lanterns
around the boat
and tied them
as the elders taught us.
Your folded hands
were clasped over the
black orchid
and the
white rose,
a gift for
the grizzled Gate-man
and
his loving wife.
With a gentle push
and a soft splash of
water against wood,
we set you adrift.
The lanterns danced
on the ripples,
as you once danced
with me.
And we watched you
slip into the current’s
waiting hand.
The lanterns
soon stopped their dance
and followed,
bright and solemn,
like young novices in white
bathed in the glow of
a temple’s sacred fire,
their simulated shades of sunlight
flashing
on the thick, twisty ribbon
of ebon water.
Even the night wood ceased
its chattering to give you
a moment of
silent, solitary honor.
And we, left on the banks,
your lovers and friends,
enemies and strangers,
marked how you changed
our lives
forever.
And as the sailing bier
rounded the riverbend,
and you were
forever lost
to sight,
With a gentle shower
the sky cried our tears for us.
And in the rain,
the lanterns’ lights
hissed and faded, extinguished now,
like you,
unable to be renewed,
And the light
came back to us
and took shelter
in our hearts, and warmed them
once again
with thoughts and memories
of you, through the years,
shining bright,
alone
against a
starry sky,
like a
lantern
set on a
high and windy
hill.
© Alfred W. Smith Jr. 2015
Recommended reading on WriteHere: The Marked Princess (4) (final excerpt) – http://wh.tl/150919-10
Source: The Marked Princess (4) (final excerpt)
© Alfred W. Smith Jr. 2015
Beyond Panic 