To What We Lost – Ann Christine Tabaka
Ann Chrstine Tabaka takes us through lost relationships, lost love, lost time. Capturing the heaviness and weight of these, she helps the world feel seen in these relatable predicaments that life brings us to.
Who Could Have Known?
Who could have known – a house so small
could be so large and empty?
Cold, a hungry wolf – rips through my rib cage.
Chilling emotions – ice that will not melt.
Together/alone we make our beds – each on separate paths.
No look or touch can penetrate through
a life that has turned to salt.
The vastness of the space around you grows
with every breath you take.
Trees topple at the sound of your voice,
so filled with grief.
Where did we go wrong? Where did we venture off?
Lost within the weariness of time and neglect,
we never noticed the parting of rivers.
Once a spark/love so vibrant – now withered.
The emptiness grows with each passing day …
who could have known?
Old Woman – Staring Back
Old woman –
she sits alone.
Stares out a dingy window,
watching children play.
She wonders if –
she is “living in a shoe.”
Glass reflection –
reveals an image staring back.
She sees a face – she does not recognize.
Leathered skin, pocked with age,
marking a harsh life.
There is no hope, when hope has fled.
Time cannot be recaptured.
Sorrow lives –
where joy once abound.
Gone – is it gone?
Where did it go?
Things that bestow the greatest bliss
bring the deepest sorry.
A bird that flies her nest,
a song that ends too soon,
a child that goes astray.
Days are all the same now –
counting moments of the past.
I am that old woman.
staring back – at myself.
Sinking into Night
Sun setting behind trees.
Branches swallow grief.
You were never there for me –
Brown rules over green,
as gray paints the dusk.
Marbled sky slowly descending,
floating in a pool of tears.
Cathedral bells – a death rattle
to Ophelia’s dream
sinking into night.
Seeking Lost Love
We seek –
looking past each other
with barren eyes.
Clouds drift across the moon.
We stand in darkness – hiding
Dulcet voices once spoke of love,
now vitriol oozes a vast wasteland.
Windswept leaves gather at the doorway
to my life, never open, always latched.
trample a broken heart.
Crumbled existence, lost desire.
Telltale love, and other such stories follow us.
We read, yet do not heed.
Heads hang, hands held, we go about our lives,
never knowing what could have been.
Emptiness devours sins of the past –
we continue on our way.
Lonely/lost/forgotten, yet together,
and as far apart as we can be.
We seek for what cannot be found.
A Country Western Song
You left me waiting there
like some country western song,
not knowing what to do.
So much love/effort/time went into my part.
Now I wonder if there is
any space left for me.
Standing in the shadows – looking for a sign,
The music takes me home again.
Patching together a quilted sky,
of blue and purple lies –
with threads of blood and sorrow.
I can feel the movement of the highway,
as I travel far from this place.
Riding in the monster’s belly,
searching for love once more.
Singing along with the radio,
I find my rhythm.
The words are far too familiar,
“you left me waiting there.”
Ann Christine Tabaka was nominated for the 2017 Pushcart Prize in Poetry. She is the winner of Spillwords Press 2020 Publication of the Year, Her bio is featured in the “Who’s Who of Emerging Writers 2020,” published by Sweetycat Press. Chris has been internationally published, and won poetry awards from numerous publications. Her work has been translated into Sequoyah-Cherokee Syllabics, and into Spanish. She is the author of 12 poetry books. She has recently been published in several micro-fiction anthologies and short story publications. Christine lives in Delaware, USA. She loves gardening and cooking. Chris lives with her husband and four cats. Her most recent credits are: The American Writers Review; The Phoenix; Burningword Literary Journal; Muddy River Poetry Review; The Write Connection; The Scribe, North of Oxford, Pomona Valley Review, Page & Spine, West Texas Literary Review, The Hungry Chimera, Sheila-Na-Gig, Foliate Oak Review, The Stray Branch, The McKinley Review, Fourth & Sycamore.