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

[W R Stowe]

Love and laughter fades if we allow them to but within our soul and heart we can opt to retain them endlessly to replay at trying moments to give us that gust of November wind to again set us assail nicely done

[W.k.kortas]

I am quite late to the party on this one, so I can only concur with what wiser heads have said about the poignant wistuflness, the strength of the narrator's persona, and how enchanting and timeless this piece is.

[Lydia Shutter]

The poignancy and romantic longing in every line of this is touching. Perhaps the passion of love fades, but true love never dies. The imagery in your poem is stunning. Lydi**

[Ken Simm.]

I think the best praise I can give to this exemplary write is that I can recognise and have great sympathy for this person. After reading this I feel I could know this person.

[Beccy]

Thank you all so very much for your kind comments, you are all so appreciated.

Beccy.

[Ed Hart]

"...And with a stronger faith embrace/A sword, a horse, a shield..."

[NoelHC]

The beauty of this writing is made a bit more poignant for me,as you have shared a little of your own story with me.
I really felt you coming across in the words.
Excellent poem, Beccy.

[~]

WOW Beccy!! I loved this. There are many gorgeous metaphors that create a poignant imagery. The music echoes in my head mixed with the squeaking of the swing.
Sadness seated with you in the empty bench, hanging around the ends of your coat..
Nice meeting you Beccy!! :D

[Woody]

lost for words! where others would write long stanzas to talk about seperation with words of love and pain, you describe a scene that oozes longing simply by describing a park, the swing, the leaves.
wonderful, Beccy!!!