Too Late
by Steven McCabe
I realized (too late)
We had left alchemy
Out of the equation
Configuring
Stars, pathways, and
Heartbeats.
I hastened to manipulate
The voluminous footnotes to my
Apology.
Rounding and pulling
Like working with clay.
Evaporating
Like working with love.
My apologies began
To glisten.
It is never too late
To listen.
poemimage 
Beautiful, Steven. I like the idea of puzzle pieces – at least, that’s how they seem to me – some solid, some perhaps easily disintegrating.
Thank you Karen. Love the idea of puzzle pieces. Some easily disintegrating. Crumbling? Fading? Dust? Ashes? Love the tactile approach.
this is lovely Steven – I caught the short version last night and was coming back this morning to have a another look – very pleased I got to see both
Thank you Veronica, I appreciate that you returned. And thank you for your warm thought.
This is just gorgeous! And I love the boldness of that last image – quite shocking, but perfect.
Thank you Richard, I appreciate your assessment! I rarely use images like that last one but thought ‘well, why not?’
I so agree with everyone here, Steven ….
The surprising rhyme at the end like the sound of a temple bell ringing
Thank you Jana, A temple bell ringing. What a beautiful image. About a rhyme. A surprise rhyme. Many thanks.
I still haven’t figured out how to comment on your last post, Steven, and now this. I am scrambling. There is a true harmony. A longer resonating hum as you assert something new that you believe, with all the compass of your self, is important and valid, so you’ve wagered truth upon it.
I love the static tension of the images in relationship to the almost frenetic imagery that the poem conjures as the voice does his best to see the whole past with a new perspective. Who is willing to go back and see everything redefined? There is a peaceful energy about the whole affair, bolstered by that quiet half hidden eye in the chest / throat of the figure. Thank you, Steven for sharing all this. It all seems fresh and alive.
Hi Jack, I love how you work through your process of thought and observation here. In particular I am going to imagine ‘a longer resonating hum’ in relationship to ‘that quiet half hidden eye in the chest/throat of the figure.’ A cry? A psalm? Thank you Jack.
Wow! What a line this one in particular … “I hastened to manipulate/
The voluminous footnotes to my/Apology.” Wow.
Thank you so much Nell, I’m glad that line speaks to you.
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