Thirteen years since our
last meeting
she appears in the
upstairs crowd
i can't believe it
i go to sit next to
her on
the floor
so warm
Then, the house
walls blow out
i'm assured
the central
support
is the strongest
thing need be
And then I realize
she is gone
.
2 comments:
you and i talked years ago about the sneaky need that surfaced in our journal/diary writing to be heard/read.i believe now that that is/was the deep instinctual/intuitive knowing that we survive/thrive through stories. and stories must be transmitted/received.
i guess a lot of people including yourself have figured this out already...blog.
i might add, however, that unless it is the sharing of a personal truth, it is not a true transmission.
"if you never tell a lie then you never have to play dumb." RHCP
Dude, that poem is incredible. The walls blew out for me too and the wind feels pretty incredible.
Post a Comment