Echoes on the Breeze

Echoes on the breeze

Exhaust fumes, contrails

Linger as reminders

~

Poesy these lines

For my erudite

Verbosity

Can’t replace

Replicate

The memory of you

~

Inked lines

Trace symbolism

Ancestral part of me

Made tangible

~

Long the days spent

Barely considering

Your existence

Until cessation

Stole your essence

~

Now I’m trying desperately

To hold on to you

To carry you

To never forget

To reframe my guilt

To learn

~

In your footsteps

The imprints

On the earth

Poesy this may be

But true

~

Echoes hold importance

Never fully ringing true

Repetitions

Faded each resounding

~

How we cling

To notions

Ideals

Thoughts

Imagined presences

In our minds

Behind our eyes

~

So I collect and hold fragments

Fragments are all we become

Whether the furnace or grave

Is our final stop

~

Fragments

Remnants

Light coatings or dust

In a room

Long after we’ve been there

~

You will never escape my heart or mind

Unless my memories are stolen

As yours were

~

Never was I proud

To be a part of you

Arrogance of youth

But I am now

~

It’s too late

At least for you

But not for me

~

As I collect my thoughts

It’s funny

There was a time when

I’d not think of you

For days or weeks

Even months

~

But since you left us

I’ve longed to see you

My world feels darker

Without you

Which makes me downcast

Beat down

~

To think your death

Was the thing

I needed

To understand

I didn’t want to lose you

~

In the great harvest

That followed your death

I realised, old man,

My old man,

That we were far too similar

~

I am a lot like you

Cut from the same cloth

Carry your name

Collected your mistakes

Stored your failings

~

But in that harvest

Of imperfection

I scythed and yielded

Fruits of consequence

Returns of lessons

I wish we could have learned

Together

~

We never spoke as men

As men with problems

Men raised

In systems designed

To mould us

Not to cry

To keep it all down

~

We never just sat

Pint in one hand

Hearts on the table

Putting the world to rights

Sharing brutal

Honest truths

That we were alive

Sober or not

Right or wrong

But alive and loved

And respecting each other

~

Instead

We did it from afar

I know I did

~

If only I had been better

More the man I’ve become

Sooner

I could have told you

Not left it unsaid

Or unfelt

~

Now as the days and weeks

Become months

What happened in the spring

Lingers in the autumn

~

I fear I may forget you—

Your smile

And the love you tried to show

Despite generational misdirections

~

Those memories I will gather

In the storehouse

Within my soul

~

Self-indulgently poesy, fuck yes—

But that doesn’t mean

It’s not good and true