February First 2013

A Poem by Melissa Ridge

I didn't know you.

I knew your name but not the person it belonged to.
I guess it wasn't anybody’s fault,
But I regret never meeting eye to eye with you.
You see, we were always so far away from each other,
We lived far away from each other too.
We played each greeting and parting scene line for line like we've always rehearsed.
"You've gotten so tall!”

And “that hair”
Year by year we grew into dark coated strangers,
Peering through balaclavas with shaded eyes.
We didn't recognize each other anymore.
You came from a time of “seen not heard”
So my opinions usually sank like stones.
I never called you Granny,
That just wasn't our suit.
I guess we had nothing in common,
You told me once that you wrote stories,
Then when I showed you one of mine you turned away,
I could never understand why,
I guess you wanted to be the writer.
Nothing we said could satisfy our brittle conversations.
You distanced yourself by talking at me, never too me.
It was almost like you didn't want to know me but played the part perfectly and
I guess I'll miss the memories
Will it be your sweet smile or your stone garden?
That smile was always hollow when directed at me,
That hearty laugh or the smell of the guest room beds; always fresh but still laced with the breath of your cigarettes.
You kissed them more than me,
Your piercing eyes, bleached like the Texas sky or the beach with the ship?