Park benches.

A thousand miles away;

perhaps in contemplation
of the son you left behind,
you are playing your guitar.

Even above the gusted November

wind that chills to the bone,

I can hear the melody; 

as can the red/gold tinted leaves 

that dance in skittish

attendance at my feet, 

lost as I am to your beautiful music.

Time slips, clouds close in

and I gather my coat, watching 

the green painted swing as it 

sways creakily back and forth;

and I wonder if it hears the music,

or is simply keeping in practice

for the coming spring and the

fondly remembered laughter 

of a child at play.

Soon then, the wind stills

and the slenderness of my arms

are like the rusted chains on the swing,

strong enough only for measured burden;

and the distance between us,

though counted in miles,

might as well be the far side of the moon,

although love, like laughter, only ever fades.   

Reviews

[h d e rushin]

the last stanza here is as important as any love poem can conger or imagine. And there is that
irresistible promise that surrenders to separation and thusly submits meekly and adjectively
to disappointment. When you write a poem Beccy, all the assertions implied by the speaker
are true even when poetry itself (the art of it) asserts that blessed modicum of trivial
untruth. But we never doubt you and in the end, cry when you cry.

You write poetry like an unearthed, liberated lady of a different century, only this time
breached of etiquette and propriety and allowed bravely to tell the story of heartache
without being trivialized. This is as good as modern love poetry gets..

thanks for sharing it with us.....dana

[Eilis]

Your last line says love fades, but the rest of the poem seems to express how it continues to grow even in absence. I read this yesterday and I loved it instantly. It has a mournfulness, but also something of strength that is admirable.

Love is such an odd thing. It hurts more often than not and leaves us with different roles regarding it that we don't always or maybe ever understand. But that doesn't stop us. From chasing or becoming immersed in the beautiful music coming from another room or another town or another country when it calls out to the heart.

I don't know. I just found this lovely and moving. The ways in which we can never truly understand others, but even so, we continue in regard for them. Maybe coming to a point where we can accept their flaws as part of the greater scope of feeling. That's not easy. This poem feels like a great sweep of time and emotion coming to a point, and understanding there is still much that is not understood.

This is excellent poetry, Beccy.

[kentuck14]

Beccy,

Great images . . . a wonderful lyric. You should try to have it published in a journal or something.

Tom

[Stella Armour]

goodness, this is so well written; it is sad and beautiful and lonely , and i have really enjoyed finding such a lovely write :)

[jacob erin-cilberto]

and he is certainly playing chords of regret at what and of what he left behind.

and his park bench feels very lonely with no one else sitting with him...

and yes, old lovers never disappear totally from our hearts and minds...they fade, but still remain there.

[roarke]

Strong images crafted here. I like your depiction of capturing time. Time flows "within and without". I especially like the last two stanzas. Well done.

[emmajoy]

Such a quietness here.. hope things are well for you..

02/06 -PASSING BY and reading your words once more.. the colours varied, the memories strong, emotions part hidden or edged with silver tears.

Time slips, clouds close in ~ and I gather my coat, watching ~ the green painted swing as it ~ sways creakily back and forth; ~ and I wonder if .. ' still those particular words, thatsmall area.. touches me most, is genetly whimseical, deeply emotional .. Beautiful..

[Zoya]

Amazing this is! I found the aha moment in this one. The part about the swing trulys portrays your wonderful imagination and creativity. This was easy to understand as well, that made it all the more beautiful. I enjoyed reading this!

[Nigel Newman]

Wow! Beautifully written, Beccy. Some wonderful imagery written in a way that brings the angst and pain all too clearly to the fore. Very sad. A broken relationship. Possibly a lost son - could be inferred. Either way, as others have said, the final line ... Wow! Very good job! BRs Nigel

[Miss Sharon]

Lovely! I enjoyed reading this very much. Your imagery is beautiful and I felt I could hear the creaky green swing. (Time slips, clouds close in
and I gather my coat, watching the green painted swing as it sways creakily back and forth;) ~Sharon

[Jimmy Yetts]

Because it is undeniably true, the last line stings--and lingers.
A lovely, insightful and somewhat tragic piece of work.
High-level fare.