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.

15 April 2014

Bitter Love Poem

Had a sudden flashback today.
Opening the wardrobe which now
houses my winter clothes,
for a moment I saw the ghosts 
of all your garments.

The black leather jacket
with the collar just starting to go;
the maroon blazer you bought
when our marriage was new;
the yellow raincoat from Edinburgh
that matched mine, which I still have; 
the fawn shorts; the grey trousers;
all your shirts and T-shirts.

I didn't keep them.
Some people need a shrine,
but not me. I didn't want
to look at them and cry.
And for all this time I didn't.
(A year and a half and a bit.)

Today, for no visible reason,
I saw them anyway,
hanging there as usual —
only it's not usual any more —
and sure enough I howled,
leaning my forehead 
on the quickly-closed door
and wailing, all alone.


April Poem A Day Challenge 2014, day 15: Two for Tuesday 
— love poem and anti-love poem. This does duty as both.

2 comments:

  1. Oh my gosh I am wailing now too. You reach deep inside and pull at love's truest fear.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Oh Rosemary, so much loss, so much grief ... Love ...

    ReplyDelete