by Bill Yarrow
A man comes out of the waves gasping
panting stumbles falls blind with happiness
the shallow water does what it can to kill him
He's shivering so I place
over him my terrycloth robe
a first anniversary gift from you
A crowd has gathered and drags him from the dying
waves toward the awful solace of the sand where he lies
having outswum his drowning having fallen out of the sea
You look down on this man on the ground
he is moaning thank you into the earth
you did the right thing you say
I did the right thing yes but the robe
the new robe your gift is ruined
I ruined it these thoughts swim in my head
Fifteen years later not a week goes by
that I do not think about the fate of the pale-blue robe
you gave me to wear on our anniversary vacation by the green waves
Fifteen years later not a week goes by
that I do not remember the texture smell and complexion
of the water out of which you and I watched a drowning man emerge
8
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A version of this poem appeared in BLIP.
Thank you Gary Percesepe and Meg Pokrass!
The poem appears in Pointed Sentences (BlazeVOX, 2012).
I really like this form. Great attention to the lines, Bill.
"I did the right thing yes but the robe
the new robe no longer new is ruined
I ruined it these thoughts swim in your head"
Much to like here. A marvelous closing image.
Very good, Bill. This asks more questions than it answers, leaves me pondering, allowing the poem to live on, even after I've finished reading. This man, his wife...what do they value? What's important to them, esp to her? *
You know I'm not as understanding of poetry as I'd like to be, but this tells a story (for me, the poetry I most enjoy) and I love the imagery and detail despite the necessary conciseness of data (which poetry taught me to use in fiction). Loved it.
The memory of events compounded by the memory of the senses. Perfect finish.
Bill, loved this, just loved this. fave
Powerful undercurrents. Watch out! This is really something, Bill. A+ & big fav, too.
Feels to me like the drowning man and speaker are metaphorical and thus one person--the idea expands the undercurrents for me. Love the third stanza--such a unique choice of language to paint the mood and image.
Jeezis XMas, that's a damn fine poem.
Somebody want to know how it's done? This is how it's done.
*
Bill this gave me chills, it was all so "present" and reflective.
*
I remember this when I read it in BLIP and it still leaves me breathless, with goosebumps. Fantastic poem, Bill, you master crafter! Fave.