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" shall we go rowing again, we who believe we may indeed row off the edge
and fall? shall we launch again into the deep and row up the skies? "
- a. dillard
[someday i will be brave enough to do what my heart only whispers]
[ i need something to pour myself into again]
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and here is something rusty that i wrote last summer.
i plan to revisit and revise it soon. i miss words, immensely.
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my father's pantoum.
july 28, 2007
(learn this form & love it)
we began before the rain
to loiter in the corner
creating a vibrant kaliedosope
of your fifty years, and mine
loitering in the corner
we felt, slightly unnecessary
unimportant to the girl bussing tables
and the man who spoke only history
we felt, slightly unnecessary
as the sky cried out and fell, we stood
and the man still spoke only history
to the walls and the windows asking them to last
as the sky cried out and fell, we stood
watching as you did not come
to the walls, to the windows, asking them to last
for one more fifty-second birthday
watching as you did not come
you were never actually here
for one more fifty-second birthday
to share with us in the rain.
stay one more moment, please
so i might give you one gift
to share with us in the rain:
a memory to love you without bitterness.
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