The Song of Despondent Moments

I sit and listen
to a Hawaiian man sing
and play his ukele
even though he is long since dead.
La Elima.
If my life were a movie
this song would play during the parts
when the audience thinks there is no hope.
When I think there is no hope.
It would play melancholically
while I sit looking out my window
at the same backyard I have known
my short life.
It would play while
I sit alone and consider
heartache after heartache.
It would play while
I let bigger hands
lead mine to places
I do not want to lay down.
It would play while
I while I sit on Christmas mornings
and observe the damage.
A wrapping paper filled living room
still cold despite the warm air.
While I wonder why I still don't feel
the magic I'm supposed to
while someone yells from another room.
It would play while I sit
and wait in emergency waiting rooms
and browse watermarked magazines.
While I hold my grandmother's weathered hand
and wonder what she would say if she could.
It would play every time I sit up at night
as a child and not as a child
and wonder if there was anyone
that could hug me close enough
to feel my heart
and lift above my sorrows.

Autumn Questioning

You would think
that it is when they are first alive
that the leaves would be the most vibrant
the most colourful
the most showy
the most vain.
That they would be so attention seeking
when they are young and foolish.
But it seems to me
that they wait
until the they are ready
to fade away that they reveal
their true colours.
And who could guess
in the spring time
when they are such a young green
that they will one day mature
to become crimsons
golds
and amber.
Though still I must ask
why now?

Nearly Departed

When I think about you
it is always with a little ache
in my chest
because I miss you so.
It is so strange
what brings you back to me.
An old photograph
a saying
like one of the dependable ones
that used to always grace your lips.
The sound certain cupboards make
when they close
just like the ones in your apartment.
Seeing children feeding ducks.
But your memory will always be
like so many others
bittersweet.
Because it is so flavored
with tender kisses
and gentle words
and kind touch
that I cannot help but regret
how much I took you for granted
I expected,
like so many shallow childish hearts
that you would exist forever.