Four poems by Chris Cantele dedicated to the memory of his beloved wife

Is that You?

Is that you baby

My sweet baby

A stain on my counter

The cloudy spot on the

Mirror

The shadow on my door

Have you left parts of yourself

That turn to frost on

An open field

Are you the colors in

A crystalline rainbow

Are you the hues of the ocean

Are you smoke and

Sand that stings my eyes

Are you the ink that flows

From my burning pen

Is it you that presents

Sadness and joy

Pulls the tears from my eyes

Applies and takes the

Pressure from my heart

Is that you baby

My sweet baby

Is that you

Is that you

  Monsoon Tears.

Days pulled through

Months and years

Of long-seasoned shadows

Flickering of time

Cold dies cast

Without remorse

Hard-edges anxieties

Building pressure

In my heart

Monsoon tears

In curtains like waves

Flowing over hardened spirits

A razor’s edge

Dulled knife

The cries of death

Cast shadows over life

Arms retarded

Retracted from love

Untitled

I cannot explain to you

The pain of my loss

The depth of my sorrow

The light that I’ve missed

I hunger for you

In seeing my blurred reflection

In the sleep that no longer comes

In the laughter that is only seen

But not felt inside

You, and only you

Were the reason for my why

What enabled my existence

Who moved me in so many

Countless ways

I cannot explain to you

The loss of my dreams

The depth of my sorrow

The light that I’ve missed

I have not dreamed of you

For the death that’s locked so deep

Has been covered by a veneer of the living

And the falsehood of my hope

I cannot explain to you

The pain of my loss

The depth of my sorrow

The light that I’ve missed.

 

    Fading Light

As I watched the light fade

Clouds flashed red and then extinguished

Day fell into the quiet slumber of night

And the anxieties of the day softly faded

I wondered where you were before

My day passed into the dark night

And crimson skies shown early light

I thought of you and how you may have felt

During my hours of darkness

My winter tide and final flights

Has the sun rose over my weary pastures

Of a reengaged life as I realized the potential

Of a nurtured glimmer

As I watched the light fade into night

Memories pastelled into shadow

Shattering light gave way to stillness

Rest came over my aching mind

As I watched the light fade into night.

-Chris Cantele

 

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