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Leave It To My Senses

Leave it to my senses
And the darkness of a room,
For I have no reflection
And my eyes refuse to see
The light if day or love
Or memory-so extinguished
Is the lamp that once
Brightened my life with purpose! ...

Myself, so outward changed
That I seem not to maintain
A singular character apart
From all others
Who, separately, take their cue
From placement and environment,
Each by turn but tell me-
Did you expect another me? ...

Another page, another grave
For yesterday's treasured-
The sustaining pursuit
Or a self-made uncertainty
Of a need for growth and be free.
What does it mean-but me
Or you-alive with possibility,
Owning nothing to the past but this?


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