11/15/98

night breaks against night
as if morning never was
the sea leaving the shore
forgets and does not return
though the stones wait
to be washed over again
and the stars drown
in silence and sorrow
weighed down to the earth
until they too are gone and forgotten
– I had a dream of morning –

© Sarah Whiteley

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11/23/98

Finally come to my senses,
  or losing them completely –
    don’t know
    don’t care
Only salvation I find
  is what I make for myself
    can’t stay
    can’t go
But I will follow your road
  til the end of my journey
    no more
    no less

© Sarah Whiteley

untitled

it is more than difficult not to doubt myself
when for so long, all I wanted
(could even bring myself to want)
was to pass quietly from moment to moment –
to ignore the inner tides
so longing to turn toward another shore

I am surprised to find that even a small hope
is not such a small thing afterall
but the onset of a flood that once freed
sends its waves o’er the walls –
once placed for protection
but turned to containment by fear or necessity

© Sarah Whiteley

consolation

days like these the frustrations overwhelm, bitter as over-brewed tea
a tiring test of wills to bide my time, bite my tongue
I begin to doubt such things as right moments
exist for goodbyes, for final severances

there is no singular juncture, no time I can point to
and say this hour that minute is where our road ended
rather, a bruised accumulation of unfulfillments and disappointments,
an agonizingly slow dying of this skin I am ready to shed

my consolation lies in the moments to come
that are not defined by you

© Sarah Whiteley