The Caring Remains
I think of him sometimes when I'm alone --
This man whose touch I wish I could forget.
I sense a guilt and know it for my own,
Heart torn between decision and regret.
I loved him well, and cringe to see his face
Before me as he tried to comprehend:
The pleading hurt I wish I could erase,
Though clear I knew our oneness had to end.
And this same soul which felt too little known
When still within that dear one's arms we lay
Cries out still more to find itself alone
And leads my resolution wide astray.
Then sense of self returns, and smiling eyes:
Fresh hope is ever where the future lies.