it does not exist
   a dark room
closed around
with nothing inside
but what is left
   of you
   
nothing seen right
   now
means little else
than cubes, as they go
   containing
what they want, such
as bodies and heads
   even yours
if you only allow it
   to believe

dark after all is
   a sentiment
in the wider range
   we cannot see

the unfamiliar eye
sees ivy in lush green
gracefully winding around
the roots of trees,
filling in the gaps
between fence posts
like a natural beauty
graces the run down
neighborhood offering
vigorous insight
behind its cover

but those who have seen
the beauty intertwined
with the established
living sleepily for years
know the sting on skin,
the unrelenting grip
with the slow strangle
snaking its way around
forever spreading even
once pulled in all ways
returning forever more
no matter your efforts
to leave the war behind

news in my right ear
drones on chosen events
so fast none sink in
as i'm trying to write
another event for you
one that might not be
known or really felt
   either
but if we're lucky, implied
as still points in the common
noise we must endure
a brief respite of knowing
or at least feeling we are
not wholly the only one

dad's old car, parked
in the same spot, flat
tires and moss, rats
nests chewing on wires
all the signs of decay
a little bit every day
since he left it dead
an unremembered number
of years ago, left it
like a tombstone sitting
before the house he built
and i bought to help him
when he ended up living
too long for the pension
to keep up with costs

and i'm still not finding it
that cold spot of practical
allowing me to send it away
to a junk yard for scrap
as it sits there defiant
claiming the home he left

even as he spreads under
the Japanese Maples
with mom in her favorite spot
both the earth they loved
the trees, and each other
for as long as i can remember

it takes two
to know your body
when you forgot how
some memories will sit
gripped in lumps perhaps
in the place shoulders connect
to what you though was easily
a relaxed neck but instead
twists into a tucked mound
the heart packed away
   so long ago
the only way to know is through
   another
whose hand finds it, regardless
   and never relents
until the new found
bolt holding in
what form you had
can be released