Poems from the edge of time and other thoughts

Today I saw the back of someone, while walking into Target to pay my bill, odd how the mind works, I thought she was someone for a second, then I remembered, can't be her. Sighs. There are days when I miss her terribly. Yet not all our life was peaches and cream, I did love her, And I guess I loved her more than I had ever loved someone up to that point, and maybe ever since. But there was other issues that happened today. I got a little mad at my Mom talking bad about her, and I got a little upset that I treated her so badly during those rough times in our marriage. The end was when we realized we couldn't get back together, because she did not think she'd be able to live up to her end of marriage, and I had moved on and couldn't tell her, I was really aching to have her part of my life again. We had become the friends that we had lost, again on solid ground, I wanted to see her on my next visit to the area where she lived.

I got to see her again, but not talk to her. She lay in a bed with a breathing tube down her throat, and was not the woman I loved, but was the woman I loved. I knew I'd never see her again in this world. For this I am joyful that she suffers no more pain, which was a constant daily battle for her to get through each day, and it had gotten so bad she was losing all reality but pain.

Ode to a red head.

Wonder of green eyes that are almost black green.
Dark background of bed, head back and eyes wide open
Lips done up with lipstick wash, face smiling but not.
There you are in the camera's eye, taken by self it could read.

There the note is in my e.mail box, last note or is it first
Long ago I remember sounding board you'd be,
Of poems I'd write thee and your recipes back,
So I could fix you supper with the ingredients bought

Days long gone, memories just a wash of soft floss
I'd see you in heavens bright light and know you
I'd hug you and not cry, but joy Divine
I'd know it is all over and happy smiles flush

But that day is not here yet for me, and for you I know not
I wish I could reach out and touch you
But all I can is write you a poem again
Inspired by the last one I wrote you, 1247

Days the number from which I met you
Counted up from 5 Dec 2001
Poems to you on the day's count up
I have so many I know not where

All lost in the time we shared
Stored on data chips or hard copy paper
Yet each word we shared when the time was then
I miss you Trisha, Glad your home again, Home again