M. C. S.'s Blog

Poetry: the best words in the best order.

M. C. S.

M. C. S.
Toronto, Ontario, Canada
December 19
For me writing is the best way to talk without ever being interrupted.................................. ©2015 M.C.S. - all rights reserved


MAY 6, 2012 10:09AM

What of the moon

Rate: 4 Flag




Five months and counting

since I’ve heard your voice

my ears strain to remember


The phone rings

it jolts me every time  

for I think its you


I can recall your choice of words

as if I’m hearing them now

can I be sure because it’s been so long


The evenings are difficult

with long stretches of deafness

for I hear nothing but silence


My mind drifts

as I wade into the warm waters

of memories and words shared


I feel your absence

it weighs on me

like a chain mail tunic


The passage of time

is a misfortune

I must learn to accept


Five months since you died

it seems like forever

and yet it feels so raw and new


Tonight under a huge moon

I walk the garden

and wonder can you see it too


Coming indoors I stand before the mirror

the moonlight has not graced me

I look tired and worn


Standing before this mirror I see I’m lost

I’m a shadow of my old self

tarnished as the silver backing of this old mirror


Turning out the lights

I fall into the familiar silence

and swim in the warm waters of my memory














Author tags:

poetry, loss, silence, remebering

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Beautiful! I have found myself lost in the mirror as well. So now I'm going to take more photos and watch with love as I grow...better in the moon light. Thanks for this. tg
Aching and true. Each experience becomes something different the first time without a loved one.
Hoping the moon finds you peace tonight.
Solitude is a choice, loneliness is sad, but loss is a tragedy... well done.
Beautifully poignant! Memories. I have them too. I cry and acknowledge that that is ok and go on better for having memories to remember. Your poems help. Thanks.
Thanks for the cleansing tears dripping off my chin.
There was a demarcation line for me after Moms left, and it was at six months. In all my meanderings, wanderings, aberrant behaviors and avoidances, there had never, ever, been a time longer than six months since I had spoken to her. At the mark, at that line, 6 months, it all came back in. Tidal. Sudden. The loss, complete. Utterly and totally bereft, my whole persona, my whole sense of hutzpah was wrapped up in her, and the finality of my having to forge on, to make my own way - shattered me. But after that--after I got through--I began the long journey of embracing her. Of realizing she was, indeed, an Angel on my shoulder now. That inside and within Me, was every single thing she ever gave me. It was not only my responsibility, but my Joy - to begin to give that back out. As she did, in her voice, in her way, and therein I found my Self. Blessin's to ya, my sweet. Call any time; I am always Here. So is she.