Richard Pierce

Richard Pierce – author, poet, painter


Tetraptych – December 2015

In memory of LH


My mind is full, but
My mouth is empty.
I scribble the mind onto another page
Without speaking.
I have grief on my mind,
Of an unknown kind.


The taste on my tongue
Is wasted, because you’re not here.
I have a memory of unread words,
You telling me they’re right,
Not wrong.


Behind me, there’s music,
Because I can’t deal with talk.
The beat is a novel, a poem.
The beat is life,
But not this one.
Look, over there.


There is a tune I won’t forget,
Just a simple melody on a piano,
A plain song you didn’t write,
But I hear you singing
And smiling it.

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