April 2014

Yesterday, for a brief instance

I caught the familiar scent

Of pinesol and graphite and sunlight

And the feeling

Of ink-smudged fingers

And I thought of that time.

 

That day when I sat

Restless

With a sense of promised change

Approaching

Still concealed in the dimness of the unknown

But imminent nonetheless.

 

And when night fell

We ate cherries soaked in moonshine

And I sat at your feet

Back pressed against your knees

Smiling at the strangeness of it all

Hank barking from the kitchen.

 

I woke on the couch to feel your hand

Gently holding mine

As if to pull me from all that was stagnant

If only for a moment

And unfasten the tightly wound strings

That held me together

 

I knew this would happen when I came here,

I thought.

 

And it was so simple

For you.

 

Night never really came

And I waited through the small hours

And rose with the sun

And wondered

If you would wonder

How I got home.

 

Sometimes when I answer the phone

I wish for a moment

That it would be your voice on the other line

Smoldering and crackling

Like a lit match

Burning to its core.

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Valentine]

Whew, warm feelings here. Since losing my husband, certain shaving lotions or scents, the way a certain person walks, and I am lost in thought of him. Like he has returned, but he will never walk through that door again. Valentine

[W R Stowe]

How I long and yearn for my wife to get her visa and come hold my hand and make me feel alive once more I to wish for that moment I would wake up and see her next to me your poem has a lot of feeling in it nice work

[sandpiper66]

"your voice on the other line/ smoldering and crackling/ like a match/ burning to its core"
Beautiful and evocative. I love the clarity and impact of your style.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

"your voice on the other line/ smoldering and crackling/ like a match/ burning to its core"

amazing lines...i like how you "string together" moments...and then leave the reader wondering if those moments really happened, or if they were just in the mind of the speaker.

fantasy, reality...that hand holding mine...did i just think i felt that? or did we actually eat those cherries and feel safe within the moment.

[Emily Ring]

I love this. The words feel so true. I think the best of us have felt like this before. A delicious sadness, wonderfully written.

[Lydia Shutter]

The emotional impact of this write hit me with a wallop! The imagery you employ is stunning. There is a deliciously romantic innocence to this line, "We ate cherries soaked in moonshine" and a very adult sadness in this one, "I wish for a moment that it would be your voice on the other line". Heavy sigh. A gorgeous piece of writing. Lydi**

[~]

There are too many things in this poem that make me feel as if I was there. There are vivid images that travel through your train of thought, giving unexplainable attraction to your poetry.
wow.. i really liked both of them.