Story of Mine

Story of Mine

Story of mine, how you call to me, call to me,

saying I've left you there just as you were

I remember a time when your unfolding was all to me

But as at first, when your page was dear.

Can it be real, all that I hear? Give to me of yourselves, then,

Moving through the pages as I drew near

Filling in what waited for me: yes, as I planned you then,

Even to the original twists and turns.

Or is it only an echo, in its emptiness

travelling across time and memory to reflect at me now,

You being ever attached to my choices,

Display no more life than I've showed you how?

Thus I; typing faltering forward,

Light darts around me spinning,

Ideas dredging from their cranial conduits

and you, waiting, calling.

(spinoff of Thomas Hardy's Woman Much Missed, in honor of Nanowrimo!)