In the end, small details

reveal the hidden story.

The pointless journey undertaken,

the heartbreak of refused entrance,

the litany of woes & troubles

that pursued her for years after.

In the photo, she smiles,

acknowledging unspoken volumes,

the nuance of weakness

like ticking time bomb,

testing the very concept of courage.

All this, all for one,

all for the cause of fanaticism

dressed up as innocence.

You swallow hard, try to recall

where it was taken, circumstances

that memory won’t reveal:

fuzzy at best, a brief toehold on

the cascading collapse

that was already well on its way.

The waterfall of disappointment,

a love painful in its simplicity,

concealing great despair

behind powders & creams.

This was an instant in time,

a blanket placed carefully

as something to hide behind,

a gesture to modesty,

a pitiful keepsake transformed

into sentimental memento.

She is gone forever,

& you struggle to hold

these possibly poignant memories

from the inevitable, indomitable

slow fade to black.  

Gary Glauber


Gary Glauber is a poet, fiction writer, teacher, and former music journalist.  His works have received multiple Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominations. He champions the underdog to the melodic rhythms of obscure power pop. His two collections, Small Consolations (Aldrich Press) and Worth the Candle (Five Oaks Press) and a chapbook Memory Marries Desire (Finishing Line Press) are available through Amazon.

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