Original DDE™ art: “Alone” — by: rob kistner © 3/03/26
—-<§>—-
dawn settles softly
around her quiet chair
the sunlight
remembers her warmth
nothing moves
yet something lingers
love’s breath
held hushed in the room
I reach for a cup
I remember her hands
her hands steadied mornings
her hands soothed my longing
her hands quieted my soul
time carries her voice
like dust
like dust in a cascade sunrise
like dust visible only
if light tilts just right
light cresting mount hood
I thought sadness was absence
absence is not sadness
sadness is a presence
without weight
sadness is an empty chair pulled close
sadness is a chair no one sits in
sadness is a lone morning mug
sadness is a heartbeat
a heartbeat felt in stillness
her laughter survives
in my habits of silence
her smile survives
in the waking sun
her soulful essence survives
in the way I pause
before speaking her name
what is gone
our dream is gone
our future is gone
what now lives
is her tenderness
her tenderness still breatths
breaths beneath everything
<~>
rob kistner © 3/03/26
Nice one
Much love
Thank you Gillena 🙂
so heartfelt Rob 🙂
Thank you Ange 🙂
I never met her, but this outstanding work makes me miss her. Beautifully rendered, Rob.
Thank you Ron. You would have liked her. 🙂
So beautiful, so poignant, so full of tiny little gems, “absence is not sadness” sticks among others. Emotional rendering, and read.
Thank you Ain. This is a long overdue private personal homage to an absent friend.
her hands steadied mornings: what a wonderful phrase to include in any poem. Lovely poem. Thank you.
You are welcome Selma — thank you… 🙂
Rob, I can feel your ache from here.
She was dear to me — got me through some damned tough times Lisa… 😐
A beautifully written, soul touching tribute, Rob.
Thank you Lynn… 🙂
Beautiful Rob a lovely ode to….
Thank you True… 🙂
Such a poignant and heartfelt poem, Rob. The opening lines made me catch my breath, they capture absence so beautifully. I love the thought of ‘love’s breath held hushed in the room’, and the way you focused on hands.
Thank you Kim. It is a true story about a very dear person who died of drug over dose before I met my wife Kathy. It was an incredibly difficult time for me. I though she was going to be my one and only from that point forward. I can actually still remember her in detail — and the devastating hurt all these decades later it’s vivid!
“time carries her voice
like dust”
“sadness is a chair no one sits in”
Heartwrenchingly beautiful.
THank you Melissa… 🙂