Tarry Not

Spare me.

Listen to the lingering Soul
near the doorway

where you will leave me again
in this lifetime,

just like all the others,
hand on the window--

tapping as you catch my attention
on your way down the tracks.

It is like that
as the breath leaves a body.

The vapors of decay
suddenly sweet,

like wine,

and then the life
you have been living

is cradled in the arms
of  the angels of transition

and you are released
like a thousand petals

into the wind
where no memory

holds you to this place.

You are a child again
full of joy,

and the pain
you owned is given away

to another soul who,
like a fire burning at the candle's wick,

must do all that is possible
to snuff itself out.

Tarry not near the smiling  stories.
Make your way into the darkness
and find my hand.

Here I will promise you
never to cry again.