Questions?

What is this ache I feel
When I look at the midnight moon?
The yearnings of the past…
The touches, the dreams and hope of young love

The empty chair next to mine
No longer filled…
A hole in my heart,
Leaking tears of loneliness and disappointment
Of a life once lived, now gone

I stare into the darkness
Trying to catch a glimpse
Of the love I once shared
With the man I gave myself to

Is this the same moon
That hung over the fields?
Are these the same eyes
That looked for answers in the evening sky?

Fractured memories, clouded over
With denial, with love
What was real?
Does any of it matter anymore?

August 3, 2001 Elaine Carlson