Challenging Poetry

the sweet sorrow of parting

there are more words to write
more poems to sing
and the world will continue
its revolution, day following
night following day. the flowers
will bloom, the sun will set,
the tide will wash—out. in.
but for now, my fingers still.
my mind rests. and without
poetry, my blood
thickens and slows into
candy sweetness—painful
as sugar crystals scrape
the inside of my veins as we part
for a while. too sweet.
too tired. too empty.
and though I must
I don’t want to go.

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