Empty Lot


Like a long-abandoned lot
     Full of flowering weeds
         And other people's litter,

Like a heart dried up
     And ready to turn bitter,

All his happiness descended
     Into one small knot

Tied up at the base of his spine,
     Out of reach and out of mind.

He needed a companion—

Someone who could understand
     The sadness that conspired
         To steal his highlights,

Someone who would be on hand
     When rapture came again.

He needed time to reconcile
     The sorrow he was going through

With better days and nights,
     Remembered for their flights
         Of unimpeded gladness.


©2016 Michael Fraley




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