Funny where your mind can take you.
Sometimes our bodies react to things automatically.
I had been thinking of us in better days.
When November skies blew Mulberry leaves across our faces.
It was cold, so cold, you loaned me your fathers college sweat shirt.
We sat in your back yard, cuddled, drank some white wine.
That was a special day, in every way, our future was just a dusting of possibilities.
I can still see your smiling eyes, feel lips wet with my wine flavored kisses.
I admit, I left my body sitting in that old Nova you left me.
Went back to a place that didn’t know death or tombstones…
I found myself sitting in front of your father’s house.
Remembering when we were both young, both holding handfuls of possibilities.
End
-DS Baker
Submitted by dbaker on 16 June 2007 - 9:59pm.
Style / Type:
freeform
(2 votes)
melancholy
your last few poems have transported me, Dave, they’re so visual that I can feel and see myself in those situations. There’s a homeliness, yet a sadness here. I’m not sure about the rhyme in “special day, every way,” but don’t get me wrong, it might just be the pace by which I read it the first time, because at a different beat it worked for me fine. I think this might have hit me just a bit more if it weren’t in paragraph form, but I don’t want to let that detract from the quality of this work, which is good. On punctuation, is the comma really supposed to be after the word “day?” It just seems so out of place there.
My Piece...
Connect-Who I wish I knew your first name,and Joe. Thank you for reading and commenting on this piece. Good suggestions from both of you. It was not originally formated in a paragraph form…So much for cutting and pasting eh?
It’s not often you will see me post an overly personal piece. My first wife died in a car accident three and half years into our marriage. This piece literally happened like I wrote it. For all the attendant nightmares of emotions that came with that event, this was and is a cathartic little poem for me. It is only the second poem I have written about her. I just don’t have the heart to change it or edit it.
Melancholy, is a very good way of describing it. My challenge was not to write a poem that was just raw dripping emotions. In the grand scheme of things will this ever be considered a great poem or even a good one, probably not. I think the motivation behind posting this was to show you can express grief or very deep emotions without making your audience have their skin crawl.
Thank you for your time and your comments.
-David
Work, stretch, take risks, visualize your future. Become the poet you have always longed to be. All that is needed is honest effort.-DSB
Mark
it’s Mark, Dave, and I think I just had the same moment that Joe had when he found out about my wife’s miscarriage last year. I am truly and empathetically sorry for your loss. Thank you for the write, and opening that door up, which must be extremely difficult. I trust that we can continue to help each other out.
Mark
Just my 2 cents worth
Overall like it, “our future was just a dusting of possibilities” is excellent, but the first two lines are just a tad too conversational to my taste, could be a little more succinct or something,
cheers
I could not find one thing I
I could not find one thing I did not like about this piece. It was sharp and soft. You have the best of both worlds here. a flow from a past memory to the reality of now. I agree with one of the other reviewers. It did put the reader right in that Nova.
I am very sorry for your loss, but I do know a great write has come from a small slice of it.
K. Mulroney