Lost in Space

Good evening,

I wrote a post tonight and lost it. Thought I saved it. But lost it. I'm in Miami, exhausted, anxious... but all is really well. When I am tired I feel that the world ended fifteen minutes ago and I'm late for it.

Wanted to write a poem, really did. So I found one in my "archives". Only one, as it turns out. The last time I transferred my stuff to a new computer, most of my pictures, music and poetry disappeared. I didn't know about the poems until just now.

So in their memory, here is the first poem I ever wrote. Well, the first poem I wrote after almost twenty years of being emotionally numb thanks to alcohol and cigarettes. I had gotten sober and one my my best friends immediately died of cancer.

That's what it took for me to feel something again. I learned then that you have to actually feel in order to write. Here is what I said.

IN JUNE, for Marie

In June, this June, I watched the earth

Swell and plump.  Many flowers I noticed

Found homes in fields, and somehow the late

Afternoon light looked most yellow and thick.

I do think I can touch that yellow light.

Marie grew tired this June.  I wanted

To hold her close and memorize

Her face.  Even now I can’t remember

If her eyes were gray or brown.

This June my husband saw a family of foxes

Playing. Two babies, and he said they reminded

Him of puppies. I wonder if foxes mate for life.

Marie’s bed was by the window

And we had many cool breezes this June.

I like to think the air cooled her

And she was wrapped in yellow light.

The days, they passed so quickly,

I had hoped to make a plan this June

To increase my worth. Instead,

I only managed to find July.

But I like to think that for Marie the time

Did deepen, and she drew breaths

From the well of eternity.

June finished, as always, in heat

And expectancy.  Next year I shall

Remember the hope I held

And measure what progress I made.

I shall remember how I loved you

And loved you still.  I shall remember

Your face in the thick yellow light.

I think I can touch that yellow light.

Miss you still, Marie.

Love,

Maura at Night