poem: last Sunday

I saw you clearly tomorrow,

and I will search for you yesterday-

this. This is trying to find

Neptune colored ethics

in a world that is just learning

of the full spectrum of gray.

 

When a man admires a woman,

he praises her beauty. What

recourse is for woman? There

is no measured “goodness”

equivalent, for defining a man.

 

Only to see the way light hits

the water at full midnight, when

boundaries between whatifs

dissolve in a soft closely draped fog

I wear like a garment I can hold tight 

 

with one hand, or let fall as needed.

When I sit quietly, I remember

a future with you; and if I look

real carefully at the horizon, all

possibilities remain with the arrival

of each last Sunday of the past decade.

 

Reviews

[Corset]

I would find it in his tenderness, kindness, instinctive knowing of what a woman needs, I would define it in the essence of "safety, know without a doubt your heart , mind, body and soul" are in good hands, trust, the definition of a beautiful man at his most godly form, would be a man in love that fully trusts, one that lays his head on your heart and listens to the beat with rapture.

[Marie Anzalone]

yes.. yes to all of these things, Corset. No drama. Just a quiet recognition. Isn't that when we know that we are home?

[Corset]

I'd say so , yes.

[Adam Adams]

"When a man admires a woman, he praises her beauty... " How true... yes, he even finds tender taste of love & the simplicity of bliss inside her spirit... which makes him adoring her deeply... with words.. through muse. Nice flow of ink.

[emmajoy]

'.. when boundaries between whatifs .. .. dissolve .. '

Retrospective emotions writ here, gently, urgently, utterly personal. Your words - as so often, are beautiful.

If Love within and all around, perhaps there's no real need for defining what the man is, a woman just knows.. her mind, her heart, her all recognises that something whether past, present, future or all time. Maybe.

[Marie Anzalone]

thank you so very much, dear emma. In response to thebeautiful ponderings that you bring to the surface here, I will just say this: I will never forget something that the recipient of this piece said to me: "We did not meet. We recongnized. And it took me two years to admit it."

[Ken Simm.]

That he can see who and what you are perhaps? If I said I knew I would be lying and trying to hard. Perhpas it is obvious. I only know that beauty is not on the surface' whatever the sex. If that is not too much of a truism. More to this than that just as there is more to you. And perhaps some men.

[Marie Anzalone]

You nailed it- the person who sees me. I have been pondering this truth for weeks. There is always more, of the person ha slearned to stand still under the stars and feel humble.

[Emily B]

oh, yes

this is perfection

[Marie Anzalone]

we are all works of art, in constant state of completion

[kmartell]

does a man see a woman as a woman sees a man... very good question, are women intuitively smarter than men, and so a mans glib answers of beauty, sexy, base love, seem pathetic to a woman/ are there men who can see beyond what men see? I would hope so.

[W.k.kortas]

The first two stanzas are marvelously insightful, just brilliant in design and execution. The piece as a whole is wistful, a soft lament, if that makes any sense. What it is, unquestionably, is remarkable, top-shelf stuff all the way.