The Winter That Could Have Been
By: James Dubeau
The poem I’d never write
Would have been about a time
Which was to be
Full of joy and romance
A winter which would have began
With a night watching the lunar eclipse
Or a drive through the festival of lights
As snow fell on a starlit night
Then there was to be days
Full of outdoors fun
Such as
Snow skiing
Ice Skating
And even sledding
On these Wisconsin hills and ponds
Then we would have
Tried to stay warm
Drinking mugs of hot chocolate
While attacking each other
With freezer cold feet
Under the cover
Of warm heavy blankets
Cuddling together
Sharing bodily warmth
Through cold winter nights
All the way to the morning
Waking up to breakfast
Which I love to cook
Of eggs and bacon
And coffee or tea
And then there would have been
The handful of holidays
Trading gifts by the tree
While laughing hysterically
At our tacky sweaters
Or sipping champagne
While the ball would have dropped
Sharing a kiss
From those first fireworks
Until cupid buzzed
About our heads
But those events
Never did happen
In the winter
That could have been
And the poem
About that time
And about that girl
Shall always remain
The poem I’d never write
Showing posts with label Loss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Loss. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Friday, March 04, 2011
When I Knew Him
When I Knew Him
By: James Dubeau
When I knew him
We were both
Young men
Children really
Going though
The simple woes
That all do
At that age
As the years passed
We grew apart
As always happens
I deserted my friends
Left for college
When that failed
And I returned
I did not seek
Those friends
Which were left behind
As the sands of time
Buried them away
For a decade
Or so
But as the wind blows
Sand to obscure
Wind also blows
Sand to reveal
Slowly
Those lost friends
Are returning to me
One by one
In unexpected ways
But
When a hand extends
From the depths of sand
That might be
The only chance
I have to grab a hold
Bringing them back
Into my life
That one chance
Is what I had
With him
Instead of reaching out
Grabbing his hand
I let him slip under
Now he is gone
For good
And I can no longer
Speak to him
And say
We are still friends
By: James Dubeau
When I knew him
We were both
Young men
Children really
Going though
The simple woes
That all do
At that age
As the years passed
We grew apart
As always happens
I deserted my friends
Left for college
When that failed
And I returned
I did not seek
Those friends
Which were left behind
As the sands of time
Buried them away
For a decade
Or so
But as the wind blows
Sand to obscure
Wind also blows
Sand to reveal
Slowly
Those lost friends
Are returning to me
One by one
In unexpected ways
But
When a hand extends
From the depths of sand
That might be
The only chance
I have to grab a hold
Bringing them back
Into my life
That one chance
Is what I had
With him
Instead of reaching out
Grabbing his hand
I let him slip under
Now he is gone
For good
And I can no longer
Speak to him
And say
We are still friends
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