Down to Me – A Poem

 

Down to Me

I start again drawing.
Passing years.
Drawing squares, circles –
Pi symbologies
that are misunderstood
between each generational interpretation.
I copy the patterns in the bay leaves
left at the bottom of the kitchen sink
to divine their meaning.
Seek for an immortal past.
Lost in its shadowed breath.

And then there they are.
The four of them.
See?
See them as they
climb the green hill with purple-blue flowers
alive in a spring bloom.
There is the sun.
The high sun
in a clear white sky
turning their backs into gold.

I yell out to them
calling their names.
Their names that are forever etched into this moment.
Yell out till my voice tears
and throat constricts.
And I cannot breath.
And they do not hear me but continue on and
climb and on and up and up the hill.
But I can hear their voices
and their laughter
chillingly beautiful and faint
flutter in the wind.
Down to me.
Where the heavy perfume of the weeds and the reeds
in the ravine
burns my eyes.
Down to me.
A prisoner, a ghost
a discarded memory.
Down to me to as they rise and crest the hill and blur
and disappear to start again.

One nutmeg morning
we were together and innocent.
We spoke in fables.
In crooked nursery rhymes.
But now never again.

Start again.
And stop.

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5 thoughts on “Down to Me – A Poem

    • Thank you KB for the reblog and the wonderful compliment. Very high praise considering the source. And sorry if I have not been around much of late. My time on WordPress has been sporatic at best. I will try to catch up soon.

      • If you can still write like that I wouldn’t worry. As for your reading my poetry, I am not concerned. I know when you have time you will look at one or two. I’m fine with that. Just keep doing what you are doing. >KB

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