Archives :: Charles Ries
You Never Left
Appeared in the Spring 2004 issue.
After you died, I kept you near.
I brought you with me to parties.
I placed you in the trunk of my car,
close to my CD changer and the
music we loved - together.
I felt cheated to be left with only
memories of you. You filled so much
space. A nature so luminous it lit the
dark river path we walked along that
autumn before you left me - alone.
So I'll keep you and set you on the
table during poker night, or next to my
pillow as I sleep, or amidst the floral
arrangement at the museum ball.
"You look lovely in brass and silver
tonight. Is your lid screwed on tight?
Would you mind if I shake you baby,
pop your top and sprinkle you on my
Caesar salad?"
"Just look at them looking. They're all green
with envy. I'm with the prize. One whose
beauty they all wish they could posses."
I think I will keep you with me forever.
View bio information and additional poems published in Half Drunk Muse on the author's main archive page.
Copyright 1999-2008 Charles Ries.