Loneliness is a deep canyon
that gives no echo.
So that no matter how loudly
you try to resound
the words catch
at the corners
of your lips
and you swallow
then back down
like half-chewed seeds
hoping that they
might grow roots
deep inside of you
and sprout daisies
from your chest cavity
like longed-for weeds
So that you can build a garden,
that does not grow
but can weather every day
that the sun’s face does not show.
Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash
If the winds of fate blow heavy,
let them not blow me far from you
or bring me to some lonesome levee
before my days have passed their due.
If the winds of fate blow softly,
as those cold winds so often do,
I will hold by your side staunchly
in moments bold or moments blue.
This may not be how it will be
but I believe it will be so.
Fate’s cold winds will blow by harshly,
but you’ll be with me even so.
My love, whatever fate may be,
Whenever the wind blows, think of me.
Photo by Saad Chaudhry on Unsplash
Seamus O'Shaughnessy, Jr. 