and i see
reminders of the past
like autumn leaves
blazing before me
as visions in a fire
falling to the ground.

what will become of them
as they are buried
and turned to mulch?
will they nurture
a new and brighter future
whose roots go deep
or will they moulder away
signifying the death of all things;
things that were, are and could be?

for we know this much:
all that was, might create
a bright and new-felt day
or descend to bitter darkness –
of crushed hopes in decay.

What do we do

When the we becomes he

Or the we becomes she

What do we do

When what once was three

Becomes two, or one…

When the we becomes

Just me?

When we feel as if

We don’t know how to be

Without the we

That once was

Because

You put so much you

Into that beautiful we.

I do not know

I cannot see

Or perhaps

Maybe

I  will not

I cannot pay the cost

Of knowing

For knowing

Doesn’t come for free –

There’s always a fee…