Friday, November 27, 2009

Grateful for what might not have been

It's a time of reflection and thanksgiving, and I remind myself again: it might have been otherwise. I wrote this poem at a time when I was almost consumed with longing and anxiety. Among my desires then: to have a child, to transcend my own childhood and be a grownup, to find some way into what I dreamed my life could be.

We meet between the glass of frames
And photo paper
And the thirty years
That separate us.

And mostly, you seem
Blue eyes looking out
from plans and details
and preoccupations with, premonitions of
long and good
days to come.

In your winter coat and muckluks, you are
bright with snow light
on your cheeks and in your eyes.
And I--
I am there, too.
on my sled,
small and red, veloured and fat-fisted,
not yet a miniature you,
not yet aware of the camera
or the spring that follows.

There is a chemistry of shadow and light
on certain nights
when the fan above my bed starfishes
itself across the ceiling,
past the rattling cage of
minutia mind
to the rocky beach
of memory.

I stand on the shore
skipping thoughts along the flashing lake
singing in clean strokes across the water
until they sink
like obsidian into oil.

And here you are again,
but opaque to me
This time.
And it's clear to me that
those captured, auspicious moments
left a world of questions
of the frame.

What must you have thought,
worried over, as your own night-
beach tumbled into your room
and roared you awake with its waves?

I have learned that
if I touch the glass, or
ruffle through papers
or sing stones over water 30 years deep,
I can imagine you as
Another me.
And for a moment,
I can see the world outside the lens.

And as for the me that was then, well,
is lost at the bottom of the oily lake,
(for now)
for a tide.


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Angie Muresan said...

Kirie, beautiful words. I can sense your quiet desperation. Isn't it interesting how all our stories are filled with almosts? Stopped at any moment they could have a different outcome. Hope your Thanksgiving was a happy one.

Irene Latham said...

Beautiful BEAUTIFUL Beautiful poem!! Thanks so much for making my night. :)

La Belette Rouge said...

You ARE an extraordinary writer. I am so grateful for your friendship. I am so grateful to know you.

angela said...

Hi Kirie

That is a beautiful poem - I am glad you used it in a post.

So many years! So many dreams!

I love you so much!

Love, Mom

deb said...

I'm visiting from your lovely comment to the beautiful and amazing Angie.
and this poem is astounding.

looking forward to reading more of your blog, and poetry.

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