Erasure (Poetry)

I am looking ahead
as far as I can
but the night forbids
much in the way
of perspective

The shadows crowd me
won’t let my old friend
the moon get close
enough for me to read
her dry old lips

And fickle memories
unravel as fiction
as though denying me
ownership of
my true story

No one-time lover dreams
of me at all
I am erased from any
such recall
swept like leaves

But better so than
mourn the fantasy
of someone I could
never hope to be
we’re both spared that

I am no wiser now
only older and more tired
what little I know
hangs heavy as the world
forgets I ever was