All the Anger is Now Gone

all the anger is now gone

wherever, whatever love was,

went.

through the curtains

I look at memories

obscured by branches and leaves

crowding and tapping at

the closed panes

I put the tips of my fingers on the glass

and untouching

stir the tender leaves

and, without passion,

the memories

which awaken, but remain

unseen, unfelt

in a mist so thick,

so still,

it holds my breath

so neither joy nor sigh

escape

I cannot hear the throbbing of my heart

I cannot hear the silence of the dead battles

of my mind

eyes fail to hear, ears to see

and my hand cannot push back

the wind-blown branches and leaves

to clear my vision

I know now that I am not merely tired

I know now that I have finished loving

that I have finished living