This Present Mine To Own Poem by Kurt Philip Behm

The day now split
drifts off unpromised,
the dream remains with me

Our words as jewels
now treasured pawn,
their tickets burning free

The nights by measure
mornings fled,
those times you woke and lied

My heart remains
my own to wed,
your wound still deep inside

From spells you cast
upon our gift,
and quarried into stone

The past is black,
the future gone,
—this present mine to own

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January,2017)