The Left Column

   Midnight
     sun

The midnight sun
 that glows on high
   of your eyes
 and skies of blue
  midnight blue
 that midnight sun
   lights the darkness
  with it's darkness
    of midnight blue.
  That is you.

  You wrestle with
  those memories of love
 that was so true.
   The people who you
  drove away
     were you

  in some other life,
   some other time
   some view
  of moonlight
   on the high oaks
  come through
    it is you.

   The midnight sun
  sweeps the sky clouds
   past the full moon.

   That sun can not
  be seen.
    The trees move 
  in that sudden breeze.
  The sky opens up and
   rain comes all at once.
 
  The memories of times
    past are strongest
  with the sudden rain
   and the empty house.

    The poles on the hill
  are not visible in the
   downpour, each a
   tribute to a friend
   who are those friends?
    those friends are you

   in some past life
     when the pain of 
 lonliness, that sad place
   when the drugs are gone,
  when that pain of 
   lonli nodding off . . .

   We are survivors, 
   you and me.
   Saying that there is
       love
     makes no difference
  to anyone.

    I would come and
  rescue you from that
    midnight sun
  if it really wasn't
    burning so bright
  just to make you see.

  And when you see
   it's light
  it will show you
what you need to see.

  How could I know
   what that is?
  I can not rescue
    you 
  from yourself.

    You will
   rescue yourself.