Emma Was Here
by Judy Lesko
Late sunlight fades to nothingness
as fatted raindrops pour
in puddles on grey cobblestones,
while deep within a pool of souls
she met with time’s unruliness.
Random wheels of a bicycle
spun stories of light and sound
so frenetic once, now halted.
Memories fly in present time,
fall aimless to disintegrate.
A crash of dark oblivion
draws close to circle severed lines
within a fallow field of dreams
of would and could and should.
Apocalyptic proof she’d sought
of faith in some hereafter.
But stopped to make a final toast:
to the life and love she’d never know
to restless photos faded near
the scribbled poems on scraps of paper,
pages after page of endless stories . . .
re-found, then lost
now forever on hiatus.
left to languish in a drawer.