The Shape of My Soul

The trees on the coast in Rockport, Texas
Grow in unearthly shapes and angles,
As if reaching for a magic sun
Forever fixed low in the western sky.

But what shapes them is unseen:
The invisible and incessant wind
Blowing from the gulf.

My soul is in the shape of a corkscrew,
A vine grown around a now-unseen trellis,
Hardened with the passing years.

Decades entangled with my love shaped me.
She is no longer visible, no longer touches,
But yet so clearly seen in that empty space.

And, if someday there is another love,
They won’t fit into that empty space.
That is forever Casey’s.

But instead they’ll see me, cherish me,
Even the empty spaces,
And likely they’ll have their own empty spaces
For me to see and cherish.

We’ll make our new spaces,
Different spaces,
And those too will be beautiful.

December 2022