So I used to write a LOT of poetry…

I cut my teeth on poetry when I was little, I used to know a lot of it off by heart (there’s just snippets of a lot of that left, blowing around my mind like leaves trying to remember the trees they had been blown off a long time ago…) and I went through a period where I wrote a lot of it – I really used to write a lot of poetry, in two different languages even, back when I was a teen, or in my early twenties, but it kind of devolved into a “special occasion” thing and I wrote a poem here and there  when prose just would not cut it.

Today a poem came wandering by. So I thought I’d introduce you.






I glanced at the clock and time is slipping

into the sliding hours of late Sunday afternoon,

the kind of moment when you stop, and you think, oh,

it’s going to be Monday soon

and this thing or another needs to be done when the world wakes again

into the workaday frame of mind

and you write yourself a note or a to do list to remind you –

and then your eyes slide off the clock,

and outside sunshine is lying lightly on cedars

but spring is late this year and the cold still lingers

and it’s only an illusion of warmth and light limning the branches

and it suddenly feels exactly like what it feels like deep inside you

in the silence of your solitary heart

the empty Sunday afternoon

haunted by the absences of people

with whom you once used to be together

and from whom you are now

and on every Sunday to come


One thought on “So I used to write a LOT of poetry…

Comments are closed.