deepundergroundpoetry.com
A January Death
“A January Death”
What thunder strikes my epitaph?
Someone walked here on my behalf.
It seems there was a man in this place—
But I heard neither his voice nor saw his face.
What poison drink brought about the grief
Of a life so worthy to be so brief?
I do not wish to waste my own despair
On one I’m not sure was ever there.
The years have passed…and was he real?
He fades as all things must fade.
But what time could hope to conceal
The visage and the memory into shade?
As sure as there is flesh upon me
You who look into my eyes can see
The thousand farewells of each day
That for so long I have longed to say
To he who I may have been imagining:
Whose voice never once would sing,
But whose chords play in my blood—
Whose silent melody I always loved.
Through the tears and the woe
Of what I could not save years ago
I recall I could not say goodbye—
Only that I was sorry such beauty had to die.
Some songs are just so sweet…
…that they must fly.
© 2022 Marten Hoyle
What thunder strikes my epitaph?
Someone walked here on my behalf.
It seems there was a man in this place—
But I heard neither his voice nor saw his face.
What poison drink brought about the grief
Of a life so worthy to be so brief?
I do not wish to waste my own despair
On one I’m not sure was ever there.
The years have passed…and was he real?
He fades as all things must fade.
But what time could hope to conceal
The visage and the memory into shade?
As sure as there is flesh upon me
You who look into my eyes can see
The thousand farewells of each day
That for so long I have longed to say
To he who I may have been imagining:
Whose voice never once would sing,
But whose chords play in my blood—
Whose silent melody I always loved.
Through the tears and the woe
Of what I could not save years ago
I recall I could not say goodbye—
Only that I was sorry such beauty had to die.
Some songs are just so sweet…
…that they must fly.
© 2022 Marten Hoyle
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