“So Many Words”

So many words, at worst worn pride,
I will not hide;
Betrayal, trying pales,
I will not fail;
Tailings on the mountain hillsides, precious gems,
I have them;
While the river flows a man must think,
I will drink;
Fallow mists and clouds, nocturnal dusts depart,
I feel the stars;
Where the skies descend,
There I am;
And when we mourn the loss of summer, leaves are wet;
As years become but days, the autumn’s advent even so is set.
And so I’ve waited lifetimes
For the sound of footsteps,
The incidental brush against the skin,
The glance, the look,
Beholding what I took as Gospels for the moment;
. . . still.
You never spoke to me
While I have never ceased
To hear you.
Or if you did,
You were much too busy
In the business of distraction
To notice
What was manifest
Before your eyes.