Shelter

I

Apologies to Bernie and Elton, but hoping you don’t mind 

My intentions to explain how wonderful life was when you were in my world 

I am not a roof sitter, nor is there any moss growing here for me to abuse, 

But I will confess A bit of ire arising as I pen these words; 

Inessential expressions to be misunderstood 

By most and many, yet digressions that pull themselves free 

To find the paper of temporary transport. 

It is not that we have so short a time to live, but that we waste much of it; 

Still, I bear the burden of realizing you are all the things I must remember 

Even as you shy away, drift ever further off 

The thoughtful imaging of an Elvis triggers questions 

And understanding that I know it isn’t me 

That engenders those previous expressed ideals. 

The occasional lament of “distance” 

Seems to smack of self-delusion 

After all, whose decision was the impetus? 

The creating of the non-us? 

The sense of core unity 

Has been replaced with a sense 

Of valence electron status- 

Part of the whole, 

Definitional in part, 

But able to be discarded/cast off 

In the aim of creating a new isotope

 Unaware of whom is part of the nucleus you have constructed, 

Only sense an absence from that reality: 

Heard this on a hike and it hits home: 

“'Cause I don't know if you are loving somebody, I only know it isn't mine” 

You move onward, with your new tribe offering nurture and support. 

Not sure how the barrier was established, was it that I crossed a signal, or a line? 

In any event, the cast is now reshuffled, 

And a relegation/delegation to a minor occasionally occurring role has taken place. 

I work to untangle these strands that entwine the present, dragging it with lethargic torpor 

Toward the horizon’s endpoint 

‘Cause I know it certainly ain’t mine to embrace any longer. 

You may have spoken the words first, 

But I fear I said them last. 

II 

Either casual guideposts to direct understanding 

Or obtuse unintended disclosures 

Demonstrate the changing dynamics 

Long suspected or realized 

Dwell upon the reality too long 

And be overtaken by a sense of loss, 

Left to wonder at unrequested declarations 

That only serve to confuse the issue. 

Sorrow inducing loss, due to unasked for barriers 

Walls unilaterally established 

The random sporadic hope-inspiring remark 

Only serving to heighten the sense of mistranslated signals 

False hope that has led to forsaken mindful exoduses into futile 

Ever-unrealized and unrealistic expectations 

Could there be a sense of dishonesty 

That rankles, 

Or simply a failure to address the truth? 

Queries are made, 

But unattended and disregarded regularly 

Then, offense taken, when gestures are not understood 

And explanation of implication requested 

In the shower, ruminating, 

Realizing I no longer possess a 

Sense of adoration any longer 

Pleased to exhibit patience, 

Humility, understanding, 

Compassion, integrity… 

But adoration, once key to my being, now absent entirely. 

III 

Relegated to tertiary status 

Certainly no longer primary 

Would not have known of your relapse 

Had I not attended that Saturday meeting 

Wonder who was the first told, and how many 

Fruitless inquiry 

Not secondary, either 

Not among those who merit 

Your rising and approaching with a greeting, 

Surely not a hug 

Thus, tertiary level. 

Was a time… 

Posts or messages were answered 

Now, they languish in the ether 

Decision made to cease the effort, 

Since there is little response or even recognition 

No point in pursuit of that which no longer exists 

Chasing phantoms is unproductive 

No longer one to whom queries are posed, 

Advice requested. 

Tertiary it is. 

Time to accept and step away. 

 IV 

Realizing that it was your decision to cease our connection 

And that led to the desiccation and disappearance of the Us that had colored my life 

Although I never gave up on you and I 

I realize that the one thing I cannot detach from 

Has lost connection with me 

There have been the occasional forays 

To relink 

But always with a qualification that makes it unworkable 

As a relation worth valuing 

Tertiary at best 

And that is in no fashion a best for me 

February 7, 2022

© Ivar G. Anderson