Pining for this embrace was such, reveries dazed me many a week

Seized finally by your strength, meek.. Maelstrom of fears; it lingered yet. Persisting in spite of your voice. Braving assurance. “Have faith.” “Don’t fret.”

Therein raged this worry or that; is it really safe? Did I do right by that?

I used to thread on cloudy roads. There never was a promise kept.  

And the dust settled, there being no saviors, neither they nor faith. 

Aged now those lessons, dread is a scaffold. Courage is cement.

Complete I was, convinced too by then—Nothing was lacking. I swore and I said.

Pining for this embrace was such, it’s proving me all but a fool.

Like dawn it broke through certainties kept. Now, I’m threading in this whirlpool.

You are not mine. You can’t be kept. I came to be much past the date.

But yes. I’ll pay the price to pine no more and call it fate!…

If so only for a moment?… I crave this love still, thirty odd years too late.

Hold me closer. Pining still is such.

I forgot ever having yearned this much?  

Dusty roads settled, and being complete, I buried it all.

You notwithstanding, no faith nor saviors. A farce. The gall.

You, notwithstanding. 

Hold me closer.

Katerine de la Rosa, Poetry Editor 

PoetryRobbie Klein