this work is from the collection of poems called “living in epiphany” ©2000. to purchase a copy of the book, contact me by email.
The Defense Rests
Exhibit 1 – Bell Jar
I am alone, and I am waiting, the world around me turning,
And I’ve sealed my heart inside me in an apothecary jar.
There is peace inside this stillness, in the endless day’s unwindings,
For even though I know you’re out there I still don’t know who you are.
Exhibit 2 – Wind Chime
The chimes are ringing and you stand there. Your hands are brushing snow off.
The glass inside me is exploding with apocalyptic force.
And you’re smiling and you’re speaking while my knees beneath me shaking
For in the face of my denial I now know it’s you, of course.
Exhibit 3 – Soap
There is fear in this, and loathing, despite the torrid hope that’s building,
And with soap I want to wash this clean and make it whole and pure.
But your eyes have now misread me. You misunderstood the trembling
And we crossed the line unheeding that, for this, there is no cure.
Exhibit 4 – Willow Tree
I am alone, and I am trying to make sense of all this crying,
And to live with your denial while I sit beneath our tree.
For your face keeps reappearing, and the world around me bending,
For as much as I keep leaving something leads you back to me.
Exhibit 5 – Stones
We have talked all night. It’s morning, and I watch you while you’re sleeping,
While the pain of our forgiveness collects inside me like a cairn.
For although we spoke of loving, of compassion and of learning,
Something deep inside us both knows that these empty fields are barren.
Exhibit 6 – Ring
With this ring I to you promise that this hope is not for nothing,
That one day we’ll rise above this and our hearts and souls fly free.
But although we are together, I just cannot see forever
In your eyes, and this is binding me to something that can’t be.
Exhibit 7 – Box
I am alone, and I am empty. The box beside me now is waiting
For the things that once meant us to us, the objects we adored.
We made promises, and broke them, and both love and hate were spoken.
My defense, sir, is this token. I cannot love you anymore.
l.t. dougherty 1999