Listen

You call out for help;
I don’t hear you.
I am too busy listening to my own pain.

Fear burns in your eyes;
I turn away.
My own fear is too great.

Yet, as I search elsewhere to ease my loss,
darkness closes in on me, as it has closed in on you.
If only I could move Heaven and Earth,

I would have saved you.


This poem (with slight variations) was originally published in September 1995.

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