Playing a forgotten game at my birthday party.

Upon this threshold, childhood whispers call,
Soft echoes shaped by laughter long ago.

Yet time has drawn our lives apart, a wall
Of sorrow built from loss I struggle to show.

Your days seem bright, your love intact and warm,
While mine are shaded, haunted by the night.

I fear my grief might cloud, might soon transform
This meeting to a burden out of sight.

Should I confess the ache that stains my heart,
Or shield my wounds and let joy fill the air?

Will common ground remain, or drift apart
As silence grows between the truths we bear?

Still, hope persists; perhaps old ties can mend,
And in your gaze, I might find light again.


by Diane E. Dockum
©April 13, 2026