Burnt forest of lies and deceit
downed stands of once memorable
stoic life offering chlorophyll to the sun,
I climb over root and snag
where I once knew a path
to a clearing before all this was clear.
Amid so many broken, fallen,
rotten and decaying people I know
convincing myself I love but
who cannot love me because
they can only love their addictions,
I climb over soul and memory
hoping to find something familiar
as an embrace.
Tender brushes aside,
with some greetings we always kiss;
a camaraderie of hugs and drink.
We, all of us, search for something
like worker ants, to bring back to the nest.
All this work and no rest
machine-like quest for immortality
along the blessed way there will be breakdowns.
Clutching at my chest I arrive
having driven myself in the early morning hours
to the emergency room. In moments I’m
on an IV with a drip of something
like brown cloud death to reboot
heart’s operating system.
Upon which sudden redemption lifts chest pain
breaths new life into me like the breeze
coming through the rear of the hospital gown.
In the coming days
with an ever breaking heart
I can only rejoin the groping.
