Can’t prove with biology
Yet it’s undeniably
UNMe = Love
by Dennis Tkon
. . . In crescendo, its biting sting tolls against the walls of my inner-self, revealing in its pure tone an emptiness nourished on a banquet of isolation. A feast of famine fit for the king of nothing . . .
Just then, Anna enters the kitchen. She throws herself into her chair and ducks her head. "Where have you been?" Kate says.
"Around." Anna looks down at her plate, but makes no effort to serve herself."
This is not Anna. I am used to struggling with Jesse, to lightening Kate's load; but Anna is our family's constant. Anna comes in with a smile. Anna tells us about the robin she found with a broken wing and a blush on its cheek; or about the mother she saw at Wal-Mart with not one but two sets of twins. Anna gives us a backbeat, and seeing her sitting there unresponsive makes me realize that silence has a sound.
The Bone Yard
How abruptly this world ends
against your fence it swiftly stops
and everywhere the grasses bend
as mourners pace the coffin tops
In this place where time stands still
and ancient trees they grow unchecked
their boughs arch verdantly but still
they shadow those whose lives are wrecked
Swallowed by this hallowed ground
these worn out souls lie undigested
learn the meaning of repose
and in the end indeed are wrested
Rows of unforgiven souls
all casualties of life and love
escaped the world through these dark holes
and scarred the ones they left above
Do not wait till life has ended
as so many buried yet
and to the grave with wounds un-mended
like old men who breathe regret
Dennis Tkon Copyright 2007