Poem of the Week

forgetful
june 3, 2008

when my fingers forget the taste of your skin
when my hands can no longer grasp a pen,
when the wind forgets the shape of your name,
let diamonds crumble to dust.

when my ears forget the color of your voice,
when memory no longer holds you close,
when the rose escapes her comfortable vase,
let the stars darken to dust.

when my eyes forget the heat of our love,
when my tired feet will no longer strive,
when tides forget the call of the shore,
let dust return to dust.