Hermit Grieving


Hermit Grieving

Dark sorrow in his eyes and his hand in mine,
He seems reluctant to take his leave of me;
Between his two brows is a deepening line.

Embracing in this public, forbidden time
Lends this farewell a certain finality:
Dark sorrow in his eyes and his hand in mine.

His pain, unexplained, has no reason or rhyme,
But I sense it and know it. It worries me.
Between his two brows is a deepening line.

His shrug and forced smile, and, "Oh, please, I'm just fine!"
Do nought to convince me as I meet his gaze:
Dark sorrow in his eyes and his hand in mine.

I offer my aid, though in matters sublime
I'm no sky, but earth, awaiting unshed tears.
Between his two brows is a deepening line.

With one foot on the stair, he lingers awhile,
But reticence triumphs and time flees away:
Dark sorrow in his eyes and his hand in mine,
Between his two brows is a deepening line.

***

C.P. Warner
11 August 1992


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