What dreaded demons are these,
Which extract the life
From families?
Some would offer:
Lies are they,
But omission,
It is argued,
Has another name.

‘You are as healthy
As your secrets,’
Known only by you,
And I am powerless to help,
If your words are untrue .
When I look in your eyes,
Is it mendacity I despise,
Or is it only…
As you would have me believe?

Forgive me, please,
If I see your disease,
For your secrets
I will never know,
And the love that I feel,
Cannot itself be real,
For it rises
From the seeds that you sow.

Just smile and nod;
Don’t disagree,
And never name that
Which you feel,
For the truth
That you seek,
In your soul
So discreet,
Represents all
That you know to be real.

For years, you remember,
At the end of November,
I called out
For a family,
And the years that are gone,
Have left us alone,
With empty shells,
Where memories could have been.

Now I am silent,
So saturated with grief,
Knowing that which has been lost,
But no longer does patience,
And generosity,
Begin to approximate the cost.
I wish you luck
On your journey,
And I hope that you find the trove,
But I have held it in my arms,
And given it back,
And it goes
By a name, which is love.