.
.
silence
and empty rooms
where once the sound
of lovers’ hearts
would pound
one last look
at painted floor
(boards would creak)
in the cupboard
(where once i hid.
my toes stuck out)
wistful thoughts
of rumpled bed
(midnight fantasies)
in frenzied haste
our clothes
we shed
no sound,
but of closing
the door to paradise.
sweet memories
and pieces of my heart
packed in boxes —
red ribbon ties
our paths will cross,
it’s understood —
no regrets —
we had our time
as seasons passed.
experienced the blooming
then the winter frost.
in between, lived happiness
nevermore
to be lost
.
Dennis Cardiff: Poems and Prose 
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