#love
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by Michael Plante It couldn’t have been an easy choice walking away from your wife and children. To drown your memories in alcohol every night while the family you left behind struggled to put food on the table. But it’s alright, we made it without you. It took some time but we all ended up…
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by Michael Plante She sleeps in metaphors of dying lightblind to the colours that forces the night.Dreaming of my arrival she awaitsas metaphors fall from the evening sky.Like shooting stars they disappearinto oblivion where lovers transform themfrom star dust to roses of the night. I understand her positionher only request is my attention.She thrives in…
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Michael Plante When you see a child sitting outside their house a tear in their eye and smudge dirt on their cheeks;a woman screams from within and the sound of breaking furniture; you understand that it’s not any of your business. So you move on.Your steps become quiet and you search for something to occupy…
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by Michael Plante The only faith I have leftis my wife’s love for me and the sunset of today.For both have been with me for many yearsand have never diminished. My pride is that I took the timeto hold my wife’s handand listen to her sing her song.To be absorbed by her beautyas the sunset…
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by Michael Plante A square stone made of onyx sits on a shelf in my mind. It holds the cold moon of December. The shelf is in a closet which is in a room, a closed door keeps the closet secured, as another keeps the room closed. There is a long corridor with many doors,…
