eidolon (he)

this is the forgotten road
a funnel for the words we could never say
but should have
where his pain keeps step with the ghost of me
to this very day

of all the memories that could have been taken
what is the use of this last one
the one that was left behind
took on a life of its own
and with it has taken his own

i have wept in secret
through weather properly clement or not
and long after my heart had stopped
when i tried no longer to claw through earth
to claim again my former resplendence

the bones of me in this burial mound
the ghost of me in his room again
his bereavement heartfelt vain
one could pain to refill with hope
but his is a barrowman’s chore
and the husk that lingers
mere baggage for the day

and as much as the life not owned
was the purpose not sown
i still pine for that which was human
aimless and pointless tho’ we were
our lungs in chorus were a blessing

his pain keeps step with the ghost of me
silent words for a silent road
and when we think nobody is looking
leaning into myth to light our way
but is it okay that we inevitably fall

we have wept in secret
through weather properly clement or not
and long after his heart has stopped
when he tries no longer to claw through earth
will we meet again in former resplendence

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2020

18 thoughts on “eidolon (he)”

  3. The poem hits the bullseye in many ways. Honest in admitting that purpose of life wasn’t defined when the life wasn’t owned. Truly that doesn’t happen at a young age. The language, with every phrase is just perfect.
    A pleasure to read

    Liked by 3 people

    Reply

    • It certainly is, isn’t it, and a lesson I wish I’d learned when I was a lot younger. But then perhaps it’s the ‘experience’ part of the equation that is the point, just as you say!

      Liked by 3 people

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