The Darkness of Our Love by Michael C. Seeger

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The Darkness of Our Love 

Let us forget with generosity 
those who cannot love us.  
—Pablo Neruda 


Like dementia, the loss was gradual 
though obvious. Scales fell quietly  
like autumn leaves, vanishing 
from my eyes. Alone I stood
a bare tree in late summer;
You no longer knew me --
as if always meeting 
for the first time.

The mist over the trail thickened
like blood. The dark nights wore 
forgettable faces like cyphers 
whose only real power lay 
in words —words which
brought disengagement, 
hardly noticeable 
at first....

But which proved to be a colossal,  
ever-widening, chasm —like 
love recklessly professed, 
tumbling aimlessly. 
At the center of it all, 
there was comfort 
in the darkness 
of our love, 

Fumbling over thresholds for what
We knew must lay just beyond --
Something. Blind men knew
More. Searching the mind 
for thawing thought 
or what disarms
what’s deeply
seated.

For Words to invoke the sacred name
of Superstition —a valid charm
(Often vaguely repeated to dis-
engage the reasoning mind)
to bless, or curse, and get
what’s needed from
the deep night’s 
undercurrent. ​




Michael lives with his lovely wife, Catherine, and still-precocious 16 year-old daughter, Jenetta, in a house with a magnificent Maine Coon (Jill) and two high-spirited Chihuahuas (Coco and Blue). He is an educator (like his wife) residing in the Coachella Valley near Palm Springs, California. Some of his poems have appeared recently either published or included in print anthologies like the Lummox Press, Better Than Starbucks, and The Literary Hatchet.