I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

14 September 2011

The Last Time

We don’t always know
the last time is the last.

The last time I made love to X
(any of the exes)

the last time I saw Karen
before she died

the last time I set up my stall
at Pottsville Market

the last time I swam
in that creek with the pelicans

the last time I left
the island where I was born.

And sometimes 
we do know.

After the divorce my first husband
walking away down the street

the awful knock on the door
to fetch me to my mother’s dying

tears all the way in the plane
going home from my last trip to Bali

the last time I saw
my stepmother’s evil smile

the deliberate savouring
of the very last cigarette.

30 Poems in 30 Days: 12, Doing something for the last time
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9 comments:

  1. Lolamouse14 September 2011 at 11:02

    Very interesting concept to ponder. Would it make a difference had we known those last times were the last?

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  2. Rosemary Nissen-Wade14 September 2011 at 12:02

    Well, we might recall them in more detail later if we had attached that significance to them at the time. :-D

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  3. The Unknowngnome14 September 2011 at 14:58

    "The last time I made love to X
    (any of the exes)" - Made me chuckle :)

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  4. Rosemary Nissen-Wade14 September 2011 at 17:30

    I like it when people laugh at my jokes. :-D

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  5. MarkofDaedalus14 September 2011 at 18:41

    This really resonated with me. I also just came back from the hospital with my mother (she's okay now, but still). I was thinking about my own mortality while there. I think hospitals do that to a person. But it also reminded me how fragile my mother is, and how much that frightens me. So I suppose this poem touches on that innate fear, as well as other moments... For me, right now, that is the case. Thanks.

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  6. annell414 September 2011 at 23:03

    No sometimes we don't know...

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  7. Carrie Van Horn15 September 2011 at 06:07

    So true your words are Rosemary...this is an amazing poem....so glad i found you on Poets United! :-)

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  8. Mary15 September 2011 at 08:51

    Rosemary, my last poem written ( http://inthecornerofmyeye.blogspot.com/2011/09/waikiki-sunset.html ) coincidentally expresses some of the same sentiments. I am glad I keep my camera with me to preserve memories that might be my last. Your words here resonate with me.

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  9. Rosemary Nissen-Wade15 September 2011 at 09:25

    Thanks to you all for reading and commenting,

    Mary, I do see what you mean! Very much on same wavelength. And that's a beautiful post altogether.

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