As The Days Go Poem by Ben Partenay

These words should not be read beneath
the light, not even the moons for fear
that they will not be seen as they should.
These words should be read in a quiet corner,
on a bench in the middle of desert
where the bus comes only once a year.

I have written these words in father’s workshop
when I was small and all the world could be fixed.
The old rocking chair would rock again, the doll
with only one eye would see one day soon, at
night he worked and kept the night owls alive.

This part of me is not for the near sighted, the far
sighted, the seeing or the blind but for you who
have seen today and how it washed up on
the shores, how the shells and stones were not
as brilliant as yesterdays. It’s all the years and days.

Gone all gone, out to sea on the ship that sank
in the harbor. You were on it and I called to you
for days and years and still there are nights
that you are next to me and the wind is always
whispering, “this one cannot be fixed”, and
as the days go, it still has not been fixed.