lost songs or poems

perhaps misplaced

in all the knicks and knacks

of earlier days

they show a hint of fragrance

when i’m first going to sleep

burrowed inside my lobe, or in the ventricle

that hurts with his remembrance;

they play that game of hide-and-seek

i never liked

for everyone could find me first

and i could never figure out

the purpose, joy, the why

of hiding to be found…

though there are days and moments in those days

these days, i no longer know

when i would hide beneath my very own self,

hide far away from laughter and alas,

from tears

until this pain were to subside

until the sense of lostness

in this world without my precious mate

would go away

and i could once again rejoin

the universe as one more

planetary being

make a difference

cook a meal and share it

with a friend or two

without the pity i see sometimes in their eyes

or sometimes the impatience that i get it

over with, as if it could be over

simply over

an end to pain and to displacement

take pill one with an 8 oz. glass of water

sleep 7.2 hours

dress in muted colors, in pastels,

black does not suit the older wrinkled face

and eat an egg or two,

and make sure to have protein,

walk, do not forget to walk,

breathe, it’s not a bad sport

to engage in, to breathe or not to breathe

indeedImmigrants Protest Secure Communities Deportation Program

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