The Night's Not Long Enough Poem by Nan Williamson

the night's not long enough

I'm not going to tell you
about cures.
You already know
I'm not one for painkillers
to treat cankers of the soul:
that's not the problem here.

You didn't show up,
or call. Spiteful lips
whispered of your coldness-
seminars and galas,
duties always somewhere else.

I want to tell you many things
but the night's not long enough
to explore regret's dull ache,
shame's deeper gash or
the paralysis to come.

When the moon splinters,
when the wind whips you upward,
whirling, wild, I'll pour
drops of healing lavender,
smooth it with warm fingers on your skin.

I'd like to bring you gifts
of snowdrops and stars,
dancers in love with the music,
bright eyes meeting ours,
and laughter,
way more laughter.