Birth is many days

Birth is many days

September is the month of birth of Janet K. Hayes. She passed away in 2004 after eight years dealing with cancer, dealing with it. Twenty one days later I wrote this.

21 Days

These are not easy feelings.
Losing you.
Gone.
Gone is not a good thing.
Not to be pendantic and afraid but,
Gone is a big word.
Good living is hard to come by.
It’s not easy as so many say.
Good living is not easy to achieve.
It’s difficult.
Can I do it again from here?
Gone is a big word.
Am I condemned now?
Losing you.
Without you.
Gone.
Gone is not a good thing.
Gone is a big word.
The bottom of black.
Gone is a big word.
Chance.
Chance is a lesser word.
Chance brought me.
Takes me.
Leaves me.
What a terrible thing.
Chance.
Gone is a big word.
I want to drive north. The town to buy a shirt at the best shirt shop. Robe that naughty body in voices. I choose. I select. I am.
Fate.
Fate is not a thing for thinking. Fate is worn. Like a shirt.
Gone is a big word.
I spent three hours last night. One hour on the beach tossing balls to Lord Barkeley. Lowest tide. Brightest moon. Weeping. Marine breeze.
Wet.
One hour thumbing through one hundred photographs in our album of life.
Wet in tears.
One hour blank and void and crowing.
Drowned.
These infinite things are the first memories of the rest of my life.
Gone.
Gone is a big word.
Tonight I said to myself, “Self….”
I’ve always liked that.