Long gone

I was long gone when you called,
two centuries, two lifetimes, or more:
I was sitting on a platform
spliced with the cold
wind was clutching at my heart
ringing with the noise,
“climb your lonely mountain
stake out your lost terrain”
I was long gone, when you wrote,
my house dark shuttered
furniture shrouded in white drapes
with the spikes of random sunlight
raining rainbows on the dust,
walls rung with rusted echoes
with the laughter we have lost.
There was honey in our tongues
reflections of above,
but that’s all long and gone
and there’s nothing left to say
we can’t regret the winter
hold back shoots of spring
and yes, you had your reasons
so reasonably succinct
and now I’m somewhere hidden
in some other form and place
there’s no answer to your questions
no questions left at all
for I’m on this icy platform
the train is running late
and the cold has frozen any hope
of anything safe and warm.

I was long gone when you noticed
I was long gone when you called.

2 thoughts on “Long gone

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