The Bones of Lonely Places

Let me sit here at the edge of a cliff
watching the world from this high tower
and feeling the gusts of sorrow,

bereft and empty
knowing
nothing

but the bones of lonely places
is as close as my skin
and as deep as a lifetime
that waits for kindness
to arrive without ever knowing
the comfort of a single word
of forgiveness.

Bury me under the memory
where we all forget
to reach out and embrace
the stranger
who looks us in the reflection
each early morning.