going home

passing the disrepaired grey picketed fence

the glance says it was once great white

blistered permanent cheeks from salt spray

hand reaches up to wipe tears from the eyes

that once were a deep inquisitive blue

now clouded with years of disappointments

was it that nothing mattered after all

was it that once poor always poor

was it that even love was dismissed

into the nothingness mists

there have been lonely times chosen for silly rhymes

there have been joys that raised up even the desperate

to view a sunrise that came across the even tops of jagged mountains

there have been epiphanies when realized few breaths stopped short

knowledge that enlightened only the starless skies

yet through all the soul simply skimmed along 

it survived to the dismay of the ego's way

like a soft surrendering shrug of rounded weary shoulders

love blinked love from the liquid that kissed each shore

of a journey that only changes form

when the humanity slips away

poor is poor until there is no more 

but for the soul immersed in knowledge

that love is love and poor is nothing never was

the slow gait ginger across washed sands and jagged rocks

takes the old bent figure into the final sailing

sunsets moonrises shoreline silently waving

no look back as the dark water foams sink into the cloth of torn skirts

sinking into the longest journey done

love is love poor is poor

til there was nothing no more

it all starts over tomorrow for someone

somewhere 

a nation away

or a week from yesterday

the only memory is what is left like salt residue in others' hearts