These still days
these still and empty days
as the earth whips 'round the sun
tilted toward the darkness
I'm trying to be still
still enough to feel my vanishing
like falling snow on open water
a fade to nothing
trying not to think
as mystics teach the only way
to fully know the now and failing
(the mind has a mind of its own)
conscious of my breathing
eight counts in and twelve counts out
to feel the slowing of my heart
emptying and fading
trying not to drown in memory
of when we were strong and in love
and everything was possible—
once we were magnificent—
thinking so is lovely
these still days
these still and empty days
tilted toward the darkness.
