Odd couple they stand near a pile of regrets
heads bowed their hands cannot quite reach
yet the tingling increases as energy moves.
Heaped like a warm fir of a past Christmas nights
those naked limbs seem to live a strange parody
at play with the memories of lives they once owned.
The glow of the ancient blaze dormant
makes like a chapel consecrated to worship eternity
witnesses they remain quiet as they too ponder a purpose.
Still the emanating recollection permeates their essence
and they vanish in a fiery shower of lost destinies
while the army of skeletons continues its lifeless dance.
Would-be makers of infinite worlds, shall they continue
on their stroll through the valleys, forgotten by the giants
or share in the treasures offered by these unlikely benefactors.
Perhaps they will pursue as they do into the evening fires,
the present chapter of a story without a fertile oasis
they too, bones of moments they could not truly cherish.
——
Fabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and many other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, the San Pedro River Review as well as other publications.