In memory of Anthony Bourdain

Posted: June 8, 2018

It seemed a little strange that I should complete these words on the day we learned of Anthony’s hard-to-comprehend suicide. They are not about him in any way. But I couldn’t help thinking that the title and repeated line had something to do with the place where suicide is not only contemplated but sometimes made real.

THE EMPTY HOURS

The darkness steals

All signs of light

The days give in

To endless night

The sadness spreads

Like wild flowers

And we find ourselves here

In the empty hours

 

Nobody said

It would go so fast

Seems life is not

Designed to last

From dirty streets

To ivory towers

We find ourselves here

In the empty hours

 

We loved and lost

And loved again

The other women

The other men

After passions brief

As summer showers

We find ourselves here

In the empty hours

 

Looking back

We can’t explain

Why we caused

Each other pain

Why love so sweet

So often sours

And we find ourselves here

In the empty hours

 

©2018 Dave Tutin / openDmusic