Poem for Ivor
How to capture in word, in song, the fleeting moments of our love
You were here
And now you're gone
Even as I used to lie next to you,
bathed in the care and concern that emanated
from your warm black brown eyes,
I knew there would be that day, that you were no more
Destined for separation
Our love gave little room for the illusion
that we would have forever
Perhaps it was this knowledge
that haunted me
prevented me
from scaling the wall of fear
that grew with each passing year
one, two, five, ten,
and then, ironically, I became that person
who made long term commitments
merely for staying in one place
for long enough
to let the years unfold around me
it's not a skill, really
just inertia
you build muscles in strange places
to withstand unexpected pressures
challenges you have no way of understanding
before you find yourself in the ring
If I could wash away the regrets
and sweep aside the anger, resentment, frustration
all that would remain is memories
of magic times,
like that early night when I sat, rocking back and forth in my chair,
gazing in the mirror as we spoke on the phone for hours and hours,
unwrapping the gift of our life stories for one another,
and I knew it was right, because I didn't see a single red light
or the time we smiled at one another across the platforms
you headed uptown, me down
after a night traversing the city, hand in hand
certain of our uncertain future together
already bound in inexplicable ways
preparing for the first of many nights
traveling in opposite directions
You were here
And now you're gone
Even as I used to lie next to you,
bathed in the care and concern that emanated
from your warm black brown eyes,
I knew there would be that day, that you were no more
Destined for separation
Our love gave little room for the illusion
that we would have forever
Perhaps it was this knowledge
that haunted me
prevented me
from scaling the wall of fear
that grew with each passing year
one, two, five, ten,
and then, ironically, I became that person
who made long term commitments
merely for staying in one place
for long enough
to let the years unfold around me
it's not a skill, really
just inertia
you build muscles in strange places
to withstand unexpected pressures
challenges you have no way of understanding
before you find yourself in the ring
If I could wash away the regrets
and sweep aside the anger, resentment, frustration
all that would remain is memories
of magic times,
like that early night when I sat, rocking back and forth in my chair,
gazing in the mirror as we spoke on the phone for hours and hours,
unwrapping the gift of our life stories for one another,
and I knew it was right, because I didn't see a single red light
or the time we smiled at one another across the platforms
you headed uptown, me down
after a night traversing the city, hand in hand
certain of our uncertain future together
already bound in inexplicable ways
preparing for the first of many nights
traveling in opposite directions
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Author's Note
In October of 2009, I lost my husband/life partner of 22 years, after his lifelong battle with sickle cell disease ended. I no longer consider myself a grieving widow, but I do have so many stories to tell about our lives together and my life since. Yes, there is a book in the works...
In the meantime, the feelings do still come up, sometimes unexpectedly.
Try reading this poem while listening to this song...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vh-oye5_HUA
Other stories by Deborah Oster Pannell
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"already bound in inexplicable ways preparing for the first of many nights traveling in opposite directions" and "you build muscles in strange places" very strong voice in this piece. I'm feeling the grief and the love.
thanks Lil... you know, this one was a hard one to write... very sentimental, an opening to many other layers of thought and feeling... :)
you know actually, it wasn't hard at all... i think that's one of those knee jerk things I sometimes say. it flowed rather easily, and i love channeling into poetry whatever is coming up about anything i'm feeling... sometimes it's just the onliest, bestest thing to do!
Sad and full of yearning. Great poem for my new group Coupling. Fave*.
Yes, yearning... I often try to capture that feeling in my writing, in a way that also resonates with hope. Kind of bittersweet. Thanks for the comment Gloria. You are the queen of new groups!! :)
great job.
so much good here, such as:
you build muscles in strange places
to withstand unexpected pressures
challenges you have no way of understanding
---
the piece comes across as heartfelt and strong and centred. quietly valorous and full of a hard-earned knowingness.
nice work! fav*
Thanks for that comment, Brian. I feel like all of these life experiences are such good fodder for writing. I do hope that my own emotional relationship to the actual events doesn't prevent me from conveying something larger than the pain involved. Because in the end, it is so much more than mere grief... that's my goal, anyway...