99.

music floats into my ears like the first breath of morning
tapping letters as if they were telegram keys
as if they could send hearts across oceans
and damn it all, yours is still the name on my lips
I am growing tired of the way it looks on paper
the consonants and vowels sitting too close
the way one must smile to pronounce it properly
the word sneers at me and I cannot erase it
I am old, old, old and I am running riverbed dry
at the mercy always of Time and Choice and Regret
have I wasted these months? these years?
have I waited? and what for?
my veins spread under my skin and I begin to fade
into blue and purple and green
disappearing limb by limb, changing
as nothing changes
thumbing through old pictures one more time
for pity's sake, I am pitiful
but heartbreak has worn me wiry and tough
I have been made into barbed fencing
keeping not evil out but life inside
I encircle fields of cattle and wildflowers within my bones
protecting newborn foals, refusing entry to vultures
I am old and I am tired and I am strong
I have built wooden posts to hold me up
they are hammered deep into the hard ground
and I have not yet been torn down
that old temptress Hope appears at  my side again
perhaps, perhaps, perhaps I will find fresh water
and it will wash your name from my mouth at last