The  Poetry  Of

Don  Hynes

You're  Done

You put it down

you let it go
you walk away
you're over with that
so over;
you tear up the pictures
throw out the clothes
forget about this
forget about that
and especially that
you clean the attic
then the basement
do a ritual
lots of rituals
giving whatever
back to whoever
until it feels tired
and done
and you're done
until a single bird
flies across the fog filled sky
in the perfect frame of a window.
One bird, then another,
then lots of birds,
a murder of crows;
the window empties
you look back and it's still empty
and you know she's speaking
even if your ears are shut
and your eyes are closed,
your soul is looking
listening,
remembering
the soft nook in the dune,
wet rocks along the river
something returning
on the air,
the morning light,
something, someone
speaks and says hello.
you're not done.

One  Timeless  Touch

What comes of our being together
those few hours
then parted into the dark,
untethered, floating
like birds on a blasting wind,
searching for the unknown
for one moment of certainty
one timeless touch
on the grounding shore
of a wave cast sea.

Don  Hynes

   

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