Poems

We meet lik e this often, Sitting across from each other at our favorite spot, Sipping coffee, Peering into each other’s eyes, Discovering all we can about Our own lives through the mirror, The mirror we offer each other. “You’re really lonely,” I finally broke the silence. You can’t imagine what it sounds like When you break the silence. Of course, it sounds like nothing, Nothing at all, except The sound of your voice. And my voice, It sounded lonely as well. Maybe, that’s how I knew. “I am not afraid of dying,” he spoke. “What I am afraid of is when I die, When I get to heaven. I will wander there Alone. I will be happy that I am there, But my familiar sense of being alone In the universe Will continue to haunt me. It seems like a core thread to my being, Like a curse I will carry with me Back into infinity. But how can that be? “Can you somehow draw this thread, This curse, Out of my heart, Out of my