The power I knew I'd lose
looks a thousand ways more wonderful
in the weathered records of my mind.
When I had it,
I would have held my hand around the earth,
like shielding a gentle flame from the wind,
if you asked for protection --
I would have pressed little hot stars
into new and empty galaxies
if you asked for space --
I would have stood in the planets' path
and held the universe perfectly still
if you asked for time.
And when we drove through Carrabelle,
with the sun melting orange over the ocean
and you half-asleep, watching the water glisten,
I fixed my mind to scoop this plot into our possession
and give you every parcel you wanted; before --
before just a few years extracted my strength,
and I hid like a rat whenever you said merely:
care.
Image source: Ebyabe
haunting poem. Excellent word crafting, son! So proud of you...so wish Papa were here to read this and see where his genes ended up.
ReplyDeleteI will admit I read this last night but was too sleepy to understand it.
ReplyDeleteNow it's morning and with a fresh cup of coffee in hand I tackled your poem again.
It's so good. I'll second dad's comment about word crafting. Most importantly to me though, (being a woman) it evoked emotion. By the end of the poem when I realized what was happening I wanted to cry out at the injustice of it all. My comment was originally going to be a lecture on how you should still try and stop time for Jamie.
Then I read dad's comment and remembered you're a writer and it's your job to play with our emotions. ;)
Keep it up. Love you.
(Really though, you should take Jamie on a date or something.)
Thanks for the feedback! I really treasure it! (If I didn't, I wouldn't bother posting!)
ReplyDeleteAnd don't worry, Thursday's poem will be a response to this one -- and much happier, I hope!