I search for
Absolution
For the end of you
That absolutely
Fell
So miserably apart.

Such dissonance
At parting.
In the last days,
There were no
Absolute answers,
No mystical revelations,
No illusions of death.

In the field of poppies
Castle upon a hill,
I realize you will not return.
There is a resolution
After all.

But of absolution,
Like the castle
So high upon the hill,
I gaze
Toward the overgrown path,
But will not journey there.

I pick the poppies
Bright red as blood,
Heads bowing in the breeze.

Quickly,
But with backward glance,
Taking the poppies with me,
I leave.