You opened up a heart-room

Long filled and encased 

By the liquids of acidic years

Whose secretions began at my lover’s leave-taking.

 

Web-filled and hostile to light,

The room knew of death,

And with door ajar out seeped and spread

A toxic knowledge for all present and future time.

 

How did you come by your speech

And what of your voice?

In velvet and pungent tones

You pierce and slide to the center of things, the world’s heart.

 

Friend, my heart-room in my heart,

With no call or sign,

Has been rent by your sound, by your sense

Of the world and the sense you make of it through laughter.

 

The cobwebs have been removed,

Darkness evicted.

Laughter has become resident,

Neighbors are disturbed and know better than to complain.

 

The dank heart-room has been aired,

The long-stained windows

Rediscovered, pried open and up,

Allowing in the green spring on a perpetual breeze.

 

And though you too are now gone,

Your presence now gone,

Your clever housework remains undone

And the bright red room, door still ajar, is now to let.

 

                                                                                 -  Jeffrey Eisenmesser, Undated