Jan Sand

(February 2 1926 / USA)

Haunted


If I could flee
The sound of nightingales,
The sussurations of the sea,
The sweet and simple sounds that nails
My memories of you into the fissures of my mind
And shakes with seismic force
My inner parts that grind
And strain in awful stress,
In longing and remorse,
Our lives together, now long gone
And shredded, shattered
And dispersed along the shoals of time
To leave torn flotsam heaving
Gently in the rocks of reminiscence,
Soft nostalgia filled with sorrow, grieving.

Submitted: Saturday, May 18, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, September 11, 2013

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