In Passing (Poetry)

Do not imagine I am gone
a part of me will persevere
in dust and air I’ll linger on
when I give up my tenure here

The books I love will hold my breath
old laughter caught up in the line
all feeling can’t be killed by death
but haunts such margins for all time

My life is pressed upon the page
and history employs each verse
the printing echoes every stage —
the better years and then the worse ...

The random moments as they fell —
bright shafts of sunlight, sudden rain
lost dreams my hearts grew loathe to tell —
those loves that will not come again

The finish looms — the colours fade
as for regrets I have just one —
that break for freedom never made
I’d so much planned — so little done