I never ask about him.
The shadows begin to recede
and the silence becomes peaceful.
I am only a little curious now.
Perhaps it’s assumed I forget,
as I never ask about him.
I have not of course forgotten,
but I give him scant space in my mind
and the shadows begin to recede.
The love of family and friends
is a nourishment. So are the trees.
The silence becomes peaceful.
(A cascade poem, as seen on Poetic Asides)
Some of these poems are autobiographical, some are entirely fictional, and some are a mixture of both. The intention is art rather than self-expression. I don't allow factual details to get in the way of poetry! (I do seek emotional truth.)
They are works in progress, and may be subject to revision without notice. Completed versions appear in my books. Nevertheless copyright applies to all texts found here.
Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your posts as much as possible.