LOSS

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It begins with the forecast

of our disposition.

Which we depend on

Like the bedtime reading of Goodnight Moon.

Then

without warning

the world betrays you

like your friends did

When they disappeared

without explanation.

Time reverses its course

And you are suddenly hell-bent for

the asylum of childhood.

The Stargazer Lilies become unforgivable.

Che gelida manina intolerable

And your heart begins to suffocate

Like Desdemona

at the hands of the one who loved her most

Despite your cries of anguish

And the last-ditch effort of Hail Mary prayers

It starts to rain bricks

Like a biblical curse

Which like the early stages of Jenga

Seems manageable 

until the Unforgiving

decide to accelerate this 

game of the Gods

And entomb you beneath the stacks

Like tomorrow

When we will watch her fade away

With no assurance from the moon

As the snowflakes fall

Like a flurry of epilogues

And covers every name

That is etched in stone.

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