to overgrow a vacancy,
but not today,
A reaching out
for voids, a filling in,
but not today,
Today the empty places
pull you down,
the ache of retrospect
Tails you in this long
and perfect afternoon—
the extravagance of June
Almost too much
to bear without those few
most dear—cruel memory.
And yet, and yet,
there is a beauty
to your emptiness,
Anguish lets you know
you are alive; time to call
on instinct to survive,
And off you go
into the balanced world
to err again.
