Treasure Island

Junepaulette GasrelTibbetts

(13 June 1959 / Queens, New York)

How Can It Be...


How can it be?
That it is in the springtime
Of ones' life-
So much seems easy,
So much seems right...
How we squander the time away.
Chasing dreams, like cats' chase leaves...
How can it be-
So quickly comes the night?
That soon all dreams,
Are seen without the light.
The light that guided
Your heart once there.
To dream,
And then believe all would be right.
The heart now empty.
The dreams, harder to recall.
The battles once fought
matter none at all...
The embers
that carried...
A dream from the heart-
Can't penetrate darkness
Can't warm the death, in a soul...
How can it be-
That not too long ago-
We danced and ran free.
We dreamed not of heartache,
But of all possibilities.
We never thought defeat,
was in our vocabulary...
How can it be- we mumble...
As we brave insanities...
Our days,
Now enter winter.
And our 'spring' just frozen there.
Like the icicles on drainpipes,
like the tears
we never meant to shed...
How can it be?

Submitted: Wednesday, September 10, 2008
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Comments about this poem (How Can It Be... by Junepaulette GasrelTibbetts )

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  • Roy Gotaas (10/11/2008 1:40:00 AM)

    Having reached this one of your poems, Junepaulette, I begin to hope that you write poetry in an alter ego? .... that your poetry doesn't reflect your current life?
    Your profile sounds so. ... cheerful, well-founded, balanced. But your poetry has so much of sadness, wistfulness, yearning and melancholy in it.

    I should be troubled to think of you being so sad. (Report) Reply

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