I
The Last Snowfall
The child playing
in the driveway
while his dad shovels
will remember snow.
II
The Mirror
The hair that falls out in the shower
is still black.
Why in the mirror is it not?
The face cream claims to lift.
It’ll lift your lids right off your face.
Why in the mirror does it not?
We worry about bills and cancer
and if the car will start
and the junction in our lifeline.
Put a dimmer switch in the bathroom.
Life is too short to worry about our health.
III
Gravity
The door swings empty. Dust settles.
Flesh accommodates.
The old lady stumbles but she recovers.
I
hurt therefore I am.
When you crossed the hospital lobby
Did you think to escape?
Pick up your feet.
Make a wrong turn and you could come up
missing,
walking back at yourself in the elongated
mirrors
hung in corners. Don’t breathe.
The ventilator hisses and pumps,
tireless machine needing only an outlet.
The incident, unforeseen, took her down
one day before she was to come home,
one from which she could not recover.
It’s raining again at the window bed,
steady as the pocket watch ticking unseen.
It paces us through gathering events.
In a place like this
the only time I ever saw my father cry.
Out of time. And when was it ours?
Sometimes we can’t go home but would it
matter
if we don’t recover?
We get along. Dust settles.
15 comments:
That is fine writing. It certainly was a horrid year for most, worse for those who suffered great loss. Let us hold on to that little bit of light left and hope next year will be kinder and better...
Thotpurge, Thank you so much. Next year can only be better.
This is excellent work that just keeps getting better, letter by letter, word, phrase, stanza by stanza. Awesome. My hat is off.
So enjoyed all three and how well they connected with the events of this trying outrageous, isolated year. So many expectations for a better 2021.
Ron, Gosh, thank you. Thank you so much.
Tony,
Thanks. So glad it connected for you. I was a little disjointed, just like this outrageous year. Happy New Year.
So glad I came to visit your blog this morning, this is an epic poem describing much of what many have endured.
P.S.
Come on in, door's open, fire burning, toddies ready.
Helen,
Oh! How I wish I could. I have no writerly friends close by anymore. I think we could be famous together! Thank you so much.
Beautiful work, Yvonne. Speaks so well for what this past year has been for many. May the spirit of Christmas bring you blessings!
Hmmm, perhaps I'd better invest in that dimmer switch! Your Gravity piece is so sad, but the snowfall one seems positive. A very strange year; and dreadful, I know, for many. If we couldn't do much else, at least we writers were able to bear witness. It may turn out to be an important contribution, in a future we can't yet see.
I'm becoming that old lady who stumbles. I'm glad in your words she recovers.
i like what you said in "The Mirror". I think there is really no time to worry about our health. At least that was what i was thinking when i was younger. :)
Bev,
Thank you very much and a blessed Christmas to you!
Rosemary,
Thank you. Bearing witness, yes, it's like a responsibility. Merry Christmas.
Dsnake,
Funny, how our perspective changes over time. Thanks for commenting and have a nice Christmas.
Avoid mirrors...They make you look older than you are...Best wishes for a better New Year.
"I hurt therefore I am." This line speaks to me in so many different levels. I recognize the truth of it, the reminder that to hurt doesn't mean one is dying but still alive. A very powerful line.
Rall,
Yes, thanks. A dimmer switch is my solution!
Magaly
Thank you so much for pointing that out. I think the whole poem came to me on the basis of that one line.
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