LOVE WON'T SAVE US

i am running into a new year
and the old years blow back
like a wind
that i catch in my hair
like strong fingers like
all my old promises and
it will be hard to let go
of what i said to myself
about myself
when i was sixteen and
twenty six and thirtysix
even thirtysix but
i am running into a new year
and i beg what i love and
i leave to forgive me

—Lucille Clifton

But you were young, and you had
Plenty of time:
Going west,

You slept on the train and did not smile.
Under you the plains widened, turned silver.

You slept with your mouth open.

You were nothing,
You were snow falling through the ribs
Of the dead.

You were all I had

I’m almost like that dark hallway
with a few framed photos
and lamps on the walls.
So many visitors have walked through me,
dark and light,
depending on the illumination.