She Waited for Him
by Bill Yarrow
Station after station, she waited for him,
and he waited for her. That was part of
the problem. Misalignment. But neither
understood the geography required
for connection, how locus expands,
how the Atlantic Ocean becomes Texas.
When he held her, he thought of Racine,
and when she held him, she thought
of Cheyenne. Of course, there was nothing
in between. Except for love. But what
is love? Perfume worn by saints. So they
stalked cathedrals for the odor, breathed
in sandalwood, candles, holiness, mold…
And when their noses were full, they took
that to mean they had found it. We all
want to believe we've found love, but
what smells like love may not be love at all.
That's the cross. It may just be worship.
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Author's Note
This poem appeared in A-Minor on September 26, 2011.
Thank you, Nicolette Wong!
It appears in POINTED SENTENCES (BlazeVOX 2012)
I don´t have the t-shirt, but I´ve been there. This is wonderful! Smells bypass logic. Stations of the cross. Yes. Thank you.
I like the transformation here -
"the geography required
for connection, how locus expands,
how the Atlantic Ocean becomes Texas"
Yes. Wonderful closing, Bill. Nice piece.
Haven't we all been there...
"That was part of
the problem. Misalignment. But neither understood the geography required
for connection,"
Like how you've captured the disconnectedness here in images. Very poignant.
"But what
is love? Perfume worn by saints. So they
stalked cathedrals for the odor, breathed
in sandalwood, candles, holiness, mold…" Yup. Such a sense of humor, Mr. Yarrow. I wonder if I took my darkness and combined it with your sense of light, if we wouldn't just have a classic on our hands? This is a good one.*
I love how the misalignment is lateral, i.e. geographical; and hierarchical, i.e. spiritual; as well as sagital, i.e from Texas to Wisconsin. Cheyenne is in Tx isn't it? Still they missed each other on so many planes across the great midwestern plains. The poem is driving me crazy. I love it!
So sad, but still lovely. *
but neither understood the geography needed for connection.
love this. great metaphor here. peace *
sweet.
Wow, Bill, one of your best!
*
Bill, read this, then read it aloud. A superlative work. *
Great ending line. Excelent poem. "Misalignment." (Alignment is what you make of it, my inner something pipes up.) *
"But what is love?
Perfume worn by saints." Loved this...
The 'misalignment' in line two informs this piece clear through to the final line.
Excellent work, Bill.
An idea to ponder - beautifully put.
"how locus expands"...i've so been there. love's an ocean. supple, strong, solid body, great scent to this.
"And when their noses were full, they took that to mean they had found it."
Yes.
*