Leaving Thursday Island

About leaving a life I had fancied in my mind...but knew, in my heart, was not my heart's desire. A moment of incredible brokenness....and mending too! Thursday Island is on the top of Australia.

Leaving Thursday Island

 

I ate nothing. Knowing

you would have made porridge,

I thought of it - the tender slop on my tongue.

 

Three days before that final one

you watched my dog die. Finding me,

you brought your love, the one I’d known

 

the one I’d seen, one final time.

But this day came

to moor and man that anchor

 

as we launched I screamed at her,

the sea, for taking my best friend.

His blood on my breast, made it real.

 

You dug him a hole on the hill, while I boiled

tea on the stove �" meeting up near the middle.

Our other dog sat on the grave.

 

Wading back to the boat I am sure

we thought of a circle. Of

motion and memories; turning, and ending.

 

And on the last night I walked

to the market where most people wore

their fear the way we would

 

and I wondered if laughing at pigs blood and

children who called me “Miss Beck”

was just in a dream.  I felt my heart close.

 

In the morning I ate nothing. Knowing

you would have made porridge,

I thought of it �" the slop on my tongue.

 

I sat empty instead, spilling grief down my front

as I heard myself wake

or was I up first? I had terror and doubt

 

at my heels. Would you know? Would you wait?

I had huge things to carry.

Would you come to the door? I would say sorry

 

 

for ending it �" the wedding �"

you would tell me, “we gave it a go”. 

The lengths we would take, you and I.

 

Perhaps I would fall and you would say, “come”,

carrying my weight in your arms. I would hold

tight to your shirt in that way.

 

I would ask you to think. You would beg me to stay.

We’d hold hands with our

hope tied in knots. Seeing it chew

 

‘round the bits we adored.

The choice and surrender,

and the love we had more of.

 

But sun and salt and water meant nothing. Not

a word on the wharf. Not a wave

saying goodbye. We turned

 

in our places; survivals last song. Holding

the slop and the tongue.

You went home in our boat’s best ambition.

 

 

Reviews

[char]

Memories of a time...beautiful stuff. :)

[Dhaye]

Nicely done. You brought me to a place where I imagined I am your companion, feeling how you feel, seeing what you have seen. Hope to read more from you.