Every Poem I Ever Write

Insects serenading the end of summer's glory
the fall colors seeping into the leaves
and these small changes remind me
that you are now gone.

I know they say that all poems
are about sex, or death
or sex and death,
and writing about death is a big cliche.

But somehow, in some small part
every poem I ever write
from this point forward
will be about losing you.

The pain is unspeakable
and private
and I wait until I am alone
to court its savage invasion of my heart.

I know, oh how I know, that I am loved
because you taught me to love
and love comes back
and so they check on me
and handle me carefully
because I am so fragile without you.

Even I am careful with me
because the pain is so deep
I cannot help but think of ways
to break myself
into a million tiny parts
and float away.

But instead I will find a way
to turn away from this point
and keep moving.  I will
carry the pain with me,
because I cannot walk away from it.
It, and you, are part of me.
We will somehow go on
with and without you.