(2013)
In Loving Memory James F. Logue
Hope in another form but no fewer letters and I’ve been hoping for these past eight years so I’ll just keep on
Everyone sees god in a different light but I was born without eyes
The road is long and winding like nothing you can imagine Too many off ramps to count but too few in hindsight
Passion doesn’t arise from 12 point Times New Roman but rather from ink on one page and another
Forever seems like so long until I think of all the times spent waiting
I was like a rain cloud over a small garden and dammit if you weren’t that garden so full of flowers that I fell in love
I would write a sweet poem and title it with your name if I loved you at all
I’ll keep searching for the meaning of life and I hope I find it as crumpled paper nearish a trash can
There is poetry in nature better left to be spoken wordlessly by the breeze
To put it simply each beat of your heart is a gift that I receive with the anticipation of a child at christmas
I awoke from a deep sleep and knew the reason was to write I love you
I have whispered your name into the air so many times it has become the breeze that blows
So much time passes without feeling a single thing that I think I would give anything
The pen must be mightier than the sword For there is nothing that will spill your guts faster than a bit of ink that says
It must be a wednesday or a friday or any day at all for I am painfully aware of the wo… that consumes me