When Thoughts Come Unbidden

Driving along the
Twistings and turnings
Of that old road
Beside the river
Cold and Deep.

The high mid-winter sun
Filtering through
Branches, Bare branches, My eyes
Now in sun, now in shade
The dappled glare from melting snow.

The CD holds my favorite songs
But not turned on. No, not on,
Lest the music intrude
On me, on my solitude
On the task at hand

And then the thoughts,
Unbidden, Unwelcome,
Unwanted thoughts
Maneuvering through
The blocks, the land mines.

My defenses - lax
My heart vulnerable.
They cut and slash
These thoughts, these Damnable thoughts,
That refuse oblivion.

I swerve to avoid
A specter, a ghost
A remembered Fall from grace
Coldness grows in my stomach
I squeeze shut long dried eyes.

When will they leave me
Isn’t five years enough
To forget the loss, the pain.
Will they always be part of me.
Will they Always Come, Unbidden.

Bill Schatzabel February 2008