Sometimes Rain Rains Right On Time Poem by I.J. Benjamin

my love,
i am still here, smelling you in the soil
and the little warmth left on your stone
is all but dead, i sometimes think
have you tully gone, my love?
a man can understand
only so much,
when the midnights still smell of
you,
when the jealous angels will not have me
too.

calendars of winters you have left
with me,
tired clocks and hollow winds,
without you everything is nothing,
and nothing must be
better than this.

and when you cannot sleep, and the water
drips through cracks in walls,
and it goes quiet
you realize,
the walls are falling in,
the walls are falling in,
and the dogs are finally
frozen dead
in snow.

for me, the gods have better things,
lonely mornings and lonely nights,
and fires that do not fire,
and this thing they call life.

so,
i place a beer and a dozen roses
and if i could, i would place myself
next to you.

but the flowers will not pain,
they will have
no pain
and
there will be no tears in heaven,
even though i wait.