"I am hearing poetry when awake, dreaming poetry when asleep, breathing poetry with each breath, I am living in a poem."

Sunday, April 26, 2015

Dear David


Dear David,
  
Every year when the peonies bloom I hear
your voice teasing two little girls cartwheeling
giggles along a broken sidewalk.

You invariably bring a brighter sun when
you stop by in spring. It hangs as a bright
balloon tied to the wrist of hope.

Yes, I choose the pinkest blossoms
to fill a vase to brighten my northern window.
They are a compass pointing toward our last goodbye.

I am much better now; the pain is still there,
but the tears don’t burn my heart as often. I finally
allowed myself to trust finding peace wouldn’t betray you.

You will always be nineteen, love baseball, think
Charlie holds the stars, and give Dawn and Carrie
piggy back rides across the front lawn.

I miss you.

With love,

Susie

NaPoWriMo ~ Day 26









10 comments :

Sharp Little Pencil said...

Dear Susie, I am at a loss because I am not sure who David is... but he must have been very, very special for you to write this to him, this letter that feels like a whole lot of good memories tied up with some sadness... You really touched me with this one. The ekphrastic, tying it to that portrait and citing the pink bloom, was the clincher. Thanks so much, Amy

Ella said...

This is so touching! I could see someone I loved who I wish was not lost~

Hauntingly beautiful

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

Beautifully nostalgic, with that mix of happy-sad memories.

Kerry O'Connor said...

This letter poem seems to me to be a positive way to deal with loss. The ordering of the thoughts and feelings in the creation of a beautiful whole is gift to memory.

Sanaa Rizvi said...

A heart-warming piece..! :D
xoxo

Mama Zen said...

This is incredibly beautiful, Susie.

Vandana Sharma said...

such a sweet letter that warms the heart

Outlawyer said...

A very touching poem, Susie; sad--the wrist with the balloon such a palpably felt image. Thanks. k.

Hannah said...

Amazing and I love this:

"They are a compass pointing toward our last goodbye."

Beautifully affecting work, Susie.

hedgewitch said...

'.. I finally allowed myself to trust finding peace wouldn’t betray you.' So hard to do. This is a very insightful, loving poem of loss and the things that heal us, and what remains always behind.

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