Time’s Ashes
         by Odin Roark

Will you get to know me
when I’m gone?

After endings evolve into
new beginnings,
when do questions cease to arise?

What is it about another’s presence
that so often dissuades inquiry?

What is it about knowing someone
up to a point that signifies, satisfies,
nullifies, and indemnifies against loss?

Is knowing someone
dependent on personal experience,
or can a well-defined shadow,
usable in the sometime harshness of light,
remain spirited beyond yesterday?

Perhaps you’ll scour the dim attic sanctum,
discover dusty boxes,
sealed up retrospect
where passion’s shadow-light still ablaze,
has remained unread for so long.

I hope you’ll get to know me better
when I’m Time’s ashes,
existence’s next iteration.

So many forget…

Absence is but a convenience
available to those seeking forgetfulness.