Sunday, July 06, 2003
to bekah on her 23rd birthday
On her 23rd birthday, upon which
She will not be 23:
Switching out boxes yesterday
[just to save space],
I ran into the pile of clothes
That stood in for you
Back when you were barely 21
And barely dead.
Then you swept
Like a genie into my nose,
As if you had been bottled, kept
Fresh for years. The smell of you
I slept with for the length
Of a pregnancy, then packed
Away reluctantly, warned against
Letting my grief become chronic,
Accosted me so true it buckled my knees.
A baby blue tank top, two
Hooded tees, the long black sweater
You draped neatly over me,
Back when you were barely 21,
And I was barely bereaved,
Leaning toward me. Embracing me.
My girl you will always be.
And as I sit here writing, Bekah
Can you believe? First it is
"They Say It's Your Birthday," next I hear
"Beautiful Girl." Stay with me...
Beautiful girl, stay with me.
Who am i, what am i
A picture's worth
I stand on the sand, and I'm rocking grief to sleep in my arms.
Comments by: YACCS