Ode to Pablo

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Tonight I can write the saddest lines,

But I won't. The churn in the heart

Isn't the prophesy of loss.

Nothing's ever lost, between

The arms that never held

Anything but discontent

Or longing; nothing's ever lost

In the fallacy of ignorance

And shame; in knowing

That there is a bridge that

Ties the water to the land.

Some flow to reach the land,

Others stand still and watch the 

Ripples emerge and disappear.

Nothing's ever lost in tearing your heart

Open only to see you were never alone.

Even the cold snow must fall somewhere,

Harsh stone or warm hands.


Tonight I can write the saddest lines,

But I won't.

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