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.

7 February 2017

Dear Filing Cabinet

You look so square, solid and ordinary.
A bit battered in places, the paint wearing off.
You are two, looking like one, side by side
so closely touching there is no separation.

This half belonged to me, that was Andrew's,
used in our own offices in every home we had
until after he died, and what was his became mine.
So I placed you together. You always matched.

And yet the contents are different now, re-arranged.
I made the occasion a big chucking-out
of obsolete bills, and receipts that even the tax man
no longer wants. Detritus of a lived life.

I spread myself, my records, over the whole space.
Some of it still isn't filled, all these years later.
There are gaps. And there are secrets. Old poems
written in code, by a man I loved before.





I'm linking this to the Tuesday Platform for 7 Feb. 2017 at 'imaginary garden with real toads'
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12 comments:

  1. Linda Stevenson7 February 2017 at 12:40

    Good write, all makes sense, all parcelled as poem.

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  2. kaykuala7 February 2017 at 16:28

    How often one wonders what can happen when there are lack of storage to keep history intact. Even now the database keeps increasing but thankfully not in hard-copies of old.

    Hank

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  3. Anonymous7 February 2017 at 20:49

    Thank you for sharing your treasure.

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  4. Anonymous7 February 2017 at 21:03

    Old poems
    written in code, by a man I loved before... gosh that's so beautifully written. Thanks for sharing this poem.

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  5. Marian7 February 2017 at 21:55

    Oh Rosemary! I love this poem. One can relate to the filing, the process of weeding through old papers... and the love filed away. You won't throw those out. :) Wonderful.

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  6. Gillena Cox8 February 2017 at 00:25

    sweet write, luv when your romantic seeps into your poems

    much love...

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  7. Kerry O'Connor8 February 2017 at 02:07

    How we remember those who have past says much about the relationship, the ties that bind, even beyond the grave.

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  8. Timoteo8 February 2017 at 03:47

    That's goosebumpy, Rosemary.

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  9. Rommy8 February 2017 at 06:34

    I like the metaphor you've built up here using something as utilitarian as a file cabinet as a symbol of a relationship.

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  10. brudberg8 February 2017 at 08:05

    There is something so special about filing cabinets... there is history... love the thought of the two cabinets uniting after you had parted.

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  11. grapeling8 February 2017 at 17:45

    you bring the romantic out of even a pair of old cabinets ~

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  12. Bekkie Sanchez9 February 2017 at 12:21

    It's not easy throwing out those old tax bills! I agree with grapeling!

    ReplyDelete

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