There Poem by Gary Winkel

There is no wreckage here
otherwise I would have felt
being pulled out of it.

There are no angels singing
to me, but I hear
the songs for beloved ones.

There isn't a poem being written
that accuses me
of being fearless or fearful.

There could be a connection
between here and there,
but it's a mystery to me.

There she goes somewhere
past me, even through me.
I haven't left here.

There was a story to tell,
but now there isn't.
That's the trajedy.

There, there.
Now, now.