Abscence

I cannot remember. No, 

I cannot help but remember

The swinging seat that creaked

Its assent; the way the sun streaked

Vapid lines across your face

Illuminating the salt drops that would not stay -- 

That same vacant glance, your eyes did not understand.

No. You do not understand, 

but my jaded, jagged, joyful soul

longs for you to. I long for your community 

in our shared sufferings, joys, and lives.

But even this, to your daughter

You will not give. No. 

You cannot share.

Bread and butter only account for so much.

Laughing, crying, screaming, dying, and your touch.

I long for your touch. But, you do not move. Your vacuous

glance appeals to my core, begs for me to shut my mouth, 

and act like this rejection -- your rejection 

does not mean so much. You beg me to not remember.

But the way the yellow bubble illuminated the maple tree,

I cannot help but remember that placid, tranquil day

when you took the blame for abandonments 

you did not impart, when you ignored my

confession of my knowledge of our shared suffering.

It is not that I cannot remember. No. 

I cannot help but remember the warm wind skipping

through my hair and across my face telling me to be free, 

To fly south like the finches. But I cannot be free

Bearing these crosses of acceptance, and forgiveness,