So long

So long…
So long…
I grow wearier with time…
I comb my hair in clumps that bald,
and fade away from eyes;
the memories I hold…
that pray in me to die.

The times we whistled at the club
and skirted across Bermuda grass
that grew along the eighteen holes,
for just that summer past now-

The stolen breaths have slipped away;
no one carries on in rain.
From where I am, the lightning strikes
leave only devils playing.

So long…
So long…
the pretty days are meek…
they wrestled down a soul with love,
before crucifying his feet;
they played at being forever…
but no day holds that grace.

A day in the life of wonder
and all the world is dead,
betrayed by time, a stopwatch,
and mortal, human hands.

So long…
So long…
everything I loved…
If Jesus calls I’ll tell him,
that this was nothing much;
and he’ll call me a liar…
and I’ll respond, “I know.”

Andrew Venegas
San Jose
SJSU
poetry