forever out of reach

September 9, 2016 by Michael Guerin

i wasn’t there
when izumi’s tears

flowed like mountain
streams spilling swollen

banks to cascade down
silky milk-white cheeks
better suited for kisses

and i didn’t hear
as anguished sobs

cracked the night
and wracked her delicate

frame surrounded by
strands of long black hair
hacked short from grief

but her ancient
words carried me close

enough to feel
her little girl’s funeral

bell — though any
chance for comfort
was forever out of reach.

for izumi shikibu

poet, dreamer, writer, lover, intuitive empath. labels never reach the heart of any matter, but they can be a place to start...

between black & white