Sometimes I think you're still here,
in the bedroom, maybe,
and will soon wander into this room,
come and stand behind my chair
with an arm across my shoulder,
to see what I've been writing;
or you'll switch on the news on TV,
or start preparing our dinner.
It's been four and a half years,
but sometimes I still think you're here,
just down the passage,
about to come into this room.
I look up, expecting to see you
bend your head and smile.
I almost hear you say my name.
I almost feel you kiss me.
Linked to The Tuesday Platform for March 21 2017
at 'imaginary garden with real toads'.
Linked to The Tuesday Platform for March 21 2017
at 'imaginary garden with real toads'.
This is so deeply touching, Rosemary. It's a good reminder for me to treasure the everyday things with my loved ones while I have them. I've been increasingly aware of how close to adulthood my oldest child is. The eventual loss is going to gut me, I know.
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful comment, thank you, Lily. It's nice to know my poetry has done some actual good in the world! (I'm sure your son will come home often, after he moves out, but it never hurts to treasure what we have while we have it.)
DeleteOh I feel this one, Rosemary. As I read, I could picture Andrew, doing all those things, smiling with his amazing blue eyes.....sigh. It is hard to believe it has been four and a half years. You have made a heroic journey, my friend.
ReplyDeleteThis is so true and real. Beautiful work.
ReplyDeleteI can so relate, Arlene passed on in 2002, but she hasn't died. Though things are different, I am not sad. We made magic.
ReplyDeleteAnd I can so relate to what you say here!
DeleteSo beautiful!!!
ReplyDeletemuch love...
There is so much longing in that last almost kiss. Bittersweet.
ReplyDeleteThis is beautifully tender!
ReplyDeleteWe never die until the last person who remembers us is gone. (Or until our poems are no longer read.)
ReplyDeleteOh, this brings tears. Beautiful and thoughtful and so easy to relate, regardless of experience. Thank you, Rosemary.
ReplyDeleteThis is beautifully emotive. That 'almost' has such a bittersweet twinge to it.
ReplyDelete-HA
So beautiful and vulnerable with a twinge of bittersweet melancholy. Thank you for sharing this.
ReplyDeleteThe sorrow will never really leave you... a loved one will always be there. What a wonderful and sad poem that makes me treasure what I have the more.
ReplyDeleteThis touched my heart, Rosemary. It's not been that long and it makes me kind of sad because at my age I'll probably never know that feeling. I am so glad you had such a good man, a man who is still haunting you in the best possible way. He is watching you I know it.
ReplyDeleteI know it too (smile). And when we met, it was just when I thought I was far too old, fat and ugly ever to attract another man! So you never know.
DeleteThat is so poignant, Rosemary, and it brought a tear to my eye. The habit of love is a good habit nobody wants to break.
ReplyDeleteThat's poignant and beautiful and so real... thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteYes... this is very moving. Reminds me to cherish my own wonderful man. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteOh so nice, Rosemary. We are built to have these feelings, they and those memories are a part of us. After 47 years of our divorce and a remarriage that has lasted, I sometimes still get the feelings you wrote of here.
ReplyDelete..