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There was a man I knew
and just knowing him
made me think of poetry.
Loving him, I learned
that accepting love
is as important as giving it
and the not-so-subtle difference
between loving lukewarm
and loving red-hot.
Love like that
can make you stupid -
a total-immersion kind of stupid,
but it made me want
to read poetry.
In a different time
and a different place
it might have worked
but it was over
and when the last page was turned
he was only a man I knew
no regrets
just one perfect memory
and because I loved him
I write poetry.
C.J. Heck
Read poems about / on: poetry, memory, red, time, love, work
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C.J. Heck
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