michele kostelnik

How best should I remember you?
I think of how fast lives pass...
No choice but to weep, soon
or last, be lost or caught-
...

It is sad to see a child's eyes in a morning light
crying out but no bread in sight
Possessions are few and time is brief
The parents-beyond reason wait with grief
...

All pits of life have gone by.
Your soul is the only thing that
will not die.
Beneath ground are these black caves
...

I've watched you from a distance.

There's a child I can see in back of your eyes.
...

The burial ground came out of the past.
A spinster a blacksmith and courtesan
all seemed downcast.
Time had stood still with their names
...

the strangeness of others even
your sisters and brothers
is a responsibility
to overcome-
...

It felt so warm at the top of the tree-

until a hard wind blew the branch off of me.
...

It was a small New England town.
Tiny streets summer homes, and soft
sounds of waves whispered to me.
From my bed room window I could
...

Never a creature or bird did perch
upon the tower of that big church.
As I gaze from my bedroom window,
upon a hill,
...

Where have those real people gone,
you know, the ones who were
bohemian born.
Put that in your pipe and smoke it
...

We are all to blame, you know!

Mistakes and sins through time
are making a final show.
...

where has my love gone?
the absurd warmth
leaves me.
where is the longing passion?
...

Is like a caged bird-
Be it canary, parakeet, parrot-
Freedom being the open door
to the cage-
...

my tears have dried up in the sun
dreams have all gone of passion and fun
my youth has completely disrobed and
long ago it was all mine.
...

There will be no second appearance
for mankind.
Is it because we've been so blind?
The beauty of a lake with sun upon the snow
...

The sun still shines through her golden hair,
But the fire has gone from her eyes-
She's his prisoner now, in his Florida lair,
And each day, a bit more of her dies.
...

When one is young summer comes in beauty.

It can fill your dreams all at once.
...

They locked into each other like
lover and friend,
long lost relations, twins divided
by time.
...

Never will I hold my little son
again or see him frolic in his
playpen.
My heart had many tears but
...

Your touch surrounds me, drawing deep into
That quiet tomb of sorrow,
Touching deep into yesterday - yet fearful
Of tomorrow.
...