The Ghost of What Might Have Been

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 182

hosted this week by the stunningly talented poet Shay!

The broken heart is broadest. ~Emily Dickinson

 

In dreams my heart is a raven

free and distant like the stars

the haunting that regrets hold

 is loose like running wolves always are

I don’t fear the fall nor the sharp edges that cut to bone

I can see beyond the broken glass

I hear beyond the moan

yet in life lost is a sadder place

than a fallen forest or abandoned church

it is emptier than a drunk man’s bottle

and more painful than giving birth

for among the fullest branches

are the broken and the wild

regret loss and disease

each have memories like a child

 So is it the things we cannot remember?

That haunt us to the core

Or is it the memories we cannot forget?

That haunt us even more.