Fred Aiken Writing

Tag: sorrow

June 2, 2024

come on, let’s go and say goodbye

a quiet aftermath,
sitting side by side,
silence thick as black smoke, building flames deep in the woods,
a fragile, weighty heft among the fleshy things

while orbs of melancholy storm the unknown beaches,
search the sandy floor,
for answers that lie in the patterns of the deep blue,
or the way the light falls through the sweltering prism

words feel small,
like stones skipping across a bottomless pit, sinking,
while reaching out,
my hand a bridge across your sorrow

i speak in the language of presence,
a shared breath,
the soft rhythm of hearts beating in unison,
a reminder that you are not alone

that memories are for naught,
fragments of laughter and late-night talks,
a tapestry of moments,
now tinged with the bittersweet

i don’t say it will be okay,
because some losses carve deep,
leaving shadows that linger,
but i promise you this—

in the echo of the silence,
in the space where your friend once stood,
there is room for both sorrow and solace,
a place where healing begins

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November 14, 2022

A Root Gone Stale

for me these trees, roots withering
they are breezes blowing over graves, i am
whirled, surging down bark-tinder air

through sunlit windows, snatched up and out again–
listen! down the stars i ran, to pluck down the real moon

Yes: there may be a drowsy innocence that is never again.

—

a lonely spirit grows in a sorrowful place,
it drags across the one who should care most.
witnessing the unhappiness, witnessing no face bright;

growing up unhanded and without care
it closed its arms around the ache, the bone, the bare, but never stopped hurting

weeping when there was joy and yet it was wrong to cause tears,

The spirit has grown so numb with its silence.