FALLING INTO FOREVER
The flowing of the wind touches my dark face like your brown hair, the trees wavering across the blueness of these skies as your colored skirt moved when you walked across the grass. My loneliness leaves me empty, you see, drawing all that you once were out of me as if you were a silver ladle dipped in water. I know the silence of these rooms, the meager strengths of my hands, these skills I developed across the lonely years and miles between us as I've painted and drawn your face from the few color photographs I still have, waiting and running, both, from your memory, your smile, that sweet love I think you shared. Yet I am like some sort of stream-stone, a dream of what I once was, smoothed over and tossed till I have no edges anymore of what I thought, of what I once wanted from my suicides. There is only the emptiness for me, now, here in my green Montana, fishing the streams for my supper, selling my paintings on the side walk, writing these snippets of things in the library, a mountain home away from mine. But the sun still sets and I am still alive after you and mother died, after all that I knew of life and love fell into forever-- still--wondering why.
I~
By Johnny Sachu
© 2008 Johnny Sachu
(All rights reserved)
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