To those who have graced my life with their presence and friendship. You know who you are. My rose-colored sentiment reaches out to touch your faces.
He sits in his den, writing to unseen friends
with fingers deftly reaching out through keyboard strokes
to other faces elsewhere – washing dishes,
rubbing the dog’s belly, changing diapers, making love –
he knows not what.
* * *
Will the clicking sound of these tiny letters
sufficiently churn his insides out? Reconfigure
his heart, itchy and bothered, his
stories, stale and old, too long in storage?
His ideas grown too certain for the pitch and yaw of good friendships?
* * *
Candles burn more quickly in good company,
their scent, unnoticed; their light, unheeded.
But their gentle presence is the necessary accoutrement of delight,
the required prelude to fellowship and laughter
in dimly lit rooms made lighter by other eyes.
* * *
In the intimations of the evening he gives a sigh
and with one last look at a screen, long dark,
he remembers. He steals from the back shelves
a glimpse or two of those he cannot see, rendered pink
in the red and white of dreams.
18 thoughts on “Remembering”
Ahhh….such beauty wrapped in words and syllables. Nice…
Thank you, ma’am!
Moved by “Candles burn more quickly in good company.” Great line.
Thank you, lady Gwendolyn.
Gives me heart peace. Thanks.
Thanks be to God.
That should read – Gives my heart peace. Thanks. (And sorry I didn’t proofread before I posted.)
No worries, Penny-Anne. Spelling or not, I’m just glad you stopped by!
Beautiful, Robert! Been doing a lot of “remembering” myself, touches my heart.
I feel this way especially in January when I used to be at MSFL residencies, either yearning to be in the program or with my peeps as part of the program. It’s been a tough transition out of it for me, I must say.
I can imagine…I’m excited to begin the MSFL program (tomorrow!) but leave behind a little group of my own peeps in doing so.
God has much in store for you. You have no idea…
Love this very much. One of those poems that encompasses all things common, shared, human – makes the reader feel less alone in their skin.
Thanks, Seymour. Friendships become more precious every year for me. I suppose aging has something to do with that. But, frankly, I’ve come to see that I am who I am largely because of the company I have kept.
Amen to that! I kinda wish I had known that 20 years ago.
Likewise. I suppose it’s never too late to begin a program of incarnational gratitude!
Missing our times together as well, both in conversation and residencies. You captured both the grief and longing that my heart also knows too well. “In the shelter of each other we lived.”
Ericka, in truth I have not transitioned as well as one would have hoped from Conspirator to non-Conspirator reality. It is generally difficult for me to find people who, quite frankly, are willing to deal with my eccentricities and shrug their shoulders at all my shit. You guys did that and loved me anyway. What’s not to love about and long for in that?