THE AUTUMN OF OUR YEARS: TWO LOVE POEMS

THE AUTUMN OF OUR YEARS: TWO LOVE POEMS

 

 

THE RENDEZVOUS

A ruckus of wind behind the trees

roils the primrose trail and startles
the wayward doe. A dull grey sky
looms as a late sundown darkens
the path where we said we would be:
a rendezvous by the quiet bluffs
where we would have seen the sun
set as we always do, but the overcast
sky is a crowd of clouds now, we
could barely see the crinkled yellow
leaf float like wafted cotton to damp
rocks below, taking forever. Like us.
The autumn of our years, we whisper.
A gust whistles an eerie trace of air:
It is cold. I took time hugging you.

---Albert B. Casuga

 

FINDING THE SEED

 

Let this little garden host your cobbling,
lay them out in the sun. How inchoate
could words ever get when said? Not even
in sorrow or regret. Would loss shear them
of irreversible years of wanting? It is there.
It is always there. But like the mother
of pearl, you forgive that hurt to nourish
what was beautiful then and a stunning
gem now. Like these saplings pushing out
of grounds where as seeds they might
have burrowed into soil absent of tiller,
let them grow rampant. Wild and free
as the wind, they will one day grow strong
branches, refuge of the lost and the winged
warblers that will sing your hammock
songs until you drift into a quiet slumber
from which you will finally wake up to find
him there, caressing your face. Knowing.
Finding the seed that has always been there.

—Albert B. Casuga