My Poetry – From the Desk of Marie S. Crosswell

If You Were Here

I would look you in the eye when I tell you

I love you.

Bearing the risk, the unshelling of my heart,

with the fearlessness of a girl child

climbing trees

and running with wolves.

I would sit in humble joy before your silver hairs

rising in the black like the moon

and each fine wrinkle: the whisper of time

I am grateful to lose with you.

If you were here, I would believe life can be kind

to me. Gathering keepsakes like a bird with an eye

for shiny things: poems, Polaroids, purple carnations.

Things I can leave at your feet, in your hands,

in the light of your smile.

If you were here,

I would be in no hurry to die.

I could look at myself

and see someone who was meant to be.

Tag: My Poetry