March 2, 2018 Eric Blauer

A Long Farewell

I have said too many goodbyes of late,

some that I had anticipated,

that came from my lips,

like a lover’s slow kiss to the forehead,

but others,

were torn from my chest,

like a falcon pulling fish from stream.


Saying goodbye is like dancing with ghosts,

a familiar apparition that one can’t control,

one moment it appears,

the next, gone,

ever anticipating surprise,

ever nursing each rewouding.


Togetherness is a possession of soul,

and for such poltergeists,

all goodbyes are long farewells,

our last embracings,

a way of embalming what was.


Haunting remembrances,

poignant pauses,

soft whispers,

glimpses in the kitchen,

the touch of a cup,

the scent on wind

sunlit glades,

a taste,

a sound,

a feeling.


Cursed be goodbye,

a loathsome, papercut word,

and to speak of these things as endings,

is to surrender more power to passing,

than the heart can bear.


Funerals and memorials,

graduations and movings,

faces and places,

seasons, states and

senses of being,


Handshakes and speeches,

stories and mementos,

printed words or echoing song,

all bear our memories

like water upholds stone,

each skip closer to the sinking.


The soul’s Autumns,

always plead for coverings of snow,

false forgettings,

momentary and hallowed silences,

that warm tears defiantly melt.


Yet, new things will grow,

on the hard ground of the past,

regrettably and…thankfully,

it must be,

but not yet…not yet,

I plead.

a poem by eric blauer 3.2.18

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About the Author

Eric Blauer I am barbarian, sage, saint, bard, husband and father. Bow my knee to only One, serve all, ruled by none.

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