Hyades
Where are you now? When night by night goes by,
And all I have are memories and dreams—
Of rainy scenes of you in late July,
Unmoved by all that acts, but only seems,
And never is what it may seem. I ask:
The meaning of your kiss. Of death, or life?—
A question? Or love?—All I serve, and task
Myself to tend this care, as would my wife
Tend mine.—And like a faithful wife, you stayed
My gait through troubled times of need and loss,
Which still today burn bright, and do not fade
Or wash away, like stars that never cross.
They form a double fact: that you are you,
And everywhere you are, there I am, too.
Frank Proctor is a writer based out of Columbus, Ohio. He enjoys the challenge that writing presents, especially writing formal poetry.
Grand Little Things 