Old Space is gone, a wonderful place, a wondrous person...this poem is an elegy to a muse.

Old Space

No sleep tonight as I remember how you

Would love me to the bones

Now brittle and bleached in the night shine

Skeletal whittling alone here without you

When will I learn that Muse

Can’t survive my thundering anger?

Muse can disappear, return as she pleases

Clock her inspiration to suit herself

Why won’t I just let you manipulate me

Turn and part or come and fill?

What cause should I entrust to you

That can’t simply run to rust?

If epiphanies through transformation come

Why not allow it and let my heart continue beating?

Or must it all be on me, no refreshment

Allowed your dear, tormented soul?

Cast in dreams I’m forging holes

So lonely transparent they hardly exist

When all that marrow once suffused just

Loving; dropped empty now in halting speech

My mind needs a lift and words to live

A poem in every day that comes ‘round

Which you could inspire and drag up easy

Like life to bones and sinew found

We would joust and play ‘til night was day

And discuss ‘til morning arrived

But left for days all night came home;

‘Til angered so greatly I belted ‘way

(How petty and wrong my heart was then

To frighten and scar her sympathy

Cruelty and rage such a small response

That any muse, right mind would go!)

Tonight all ‘round me one desire floods

Just wanting more than breathing light

To let my bones lie resting wrapped

Securely ‘bout those you own

‘Til dust and wind o’erwhelms

And there in peace no consequence

All days and nights surpassed

Last vestige bone of two, Just God can rightly sift