Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Spring Moon

He put his arms around her.
She said, "Why do you hate me so much?"

He carried her to the car, past the new flowers in their beds,
pinning her arms at her sides and never saying a word.

The night before, there had been a spring moon.
Their son awoke; the hour was odd.
"Mama, why are you staring at me?"

On the lawn, robins cock their heads, listening for vibrations.
The yard teems with worms. He starts the car.

In the parking garage at the hospital, she does her rag doll routine.
Dead weight and mute, he has to load her into a wheelchair.

They met in the early summer, years before.
He hadn't known where she had just spent the past few weeks.

At the doctor's first question, she leaps up from her chair and stalks across the hall.
"There's nothing wrong with me."

Here is the thing about a spring moon--
it will cross the darkness in its own way.

Nothing anyone can do can change the cycles she must pass through,
but once a month she is beautiful again.

He can't help watching as she loses her light by degrees, 
eaten away, becoming a memory, impossible to love any longer,
finally and at last unrecognizable.
_____________

"and the flowers bloom like madness in the spring" -- Jenny Anderson.

for Izy's Out Of Standard at Toads. 






22 comments:

TexWisGirl said...

ooh, kinda spooky. :)

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

Amazing stuff! Totally got me in.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

This is so real, I can see her. Love that he watches the moon's light slowly fading away, as does hers. "Here is the thing about a spring moon--it will cross the darkness in its own way." Brilliant.

Brian Miller said...

dang shay...you got me all teary eyed...you leave a lot of the detail to our imagination which is good...it allows us to fit in the poem...what is it that causes this in her the biggest question...and it does not need an answer though i bet he lives for those moments of clarity and dreads the ones where the light is the dimmest...

sloan said...

You know, almost every time I read a new poem of yours, it becomes my favorite. But really, this. This. I don't know what to say. It's, um, beyond moving, and beyond words. Very powerful, Shay. Especially the end. I really feel this one. Can put myself completely in either place. You conveyed both perspectives perfectly. And gave me some pretty serious chills as I felt her light up and disappear right along with him. You are a gift, and I'm glad you know it and use it rather than flounder and waste yourself. I'm proud of you. Very proud.

I love this, but it's so extremely sad, the loss, so painful to read:

"Nothing anyone can do can change the cycles she must pass through,
but once a month she is beautiful again.

He can't help watching as she loses her light by degrees,
eaten away, becoming a memory, impossible to love any longer,
finally and at last unrecognizable."

HermanTurnip said...

An animalistic child of nature. Unobtainable. Ethereal. Beautifully done!

hedgewitch said...

Nothing more inconstant than the moon, or the fiber of the mind, in the end, that frays and changes, when it knows only the passage through darkness and not the light it reflects for others...but we each find our own way across that place. This reminds me of a horror story I once read, or was in, or something. Quite full of grue, but also tenderness, beauty, all the human things.

sharplittlepencil.com said...

Shay, this dark entry on Spring actually made me cry. Her helplessness at the Spring moon, her partner's loving care, her son...

Guess I'm feeling sentimental, but having been the one in the wheelchair probably contributed to the emotion of this. What an astonishing prose poem! Amy

myheartslovesongs.com said...

i can't help but worry about her son...

you don't just describe things, SP, you put us right there in the middle and reading their minds, their emotions... so much more than just reality. brilliant writing as always!!!

aprille said...

"Killing me softly..."

Lynn said...

So moving and sad.

razzamadazzle said...

Beautiful and intriguing! I love this!

Marian said...

oh sigh.

Kerry O'Connor said...

This is an amazing personification of the madness of spring flowers.
Brava!

These lines stand alone like a bold tattoo:

Here is the thing about a spring moon--
it will cross the darkness in its own way.

Mama Zen said...

This is terrifying and heartbreaking.

Buddah Moskowitz said...

I lived this with someone for about six years. You captured it somehow. And yes, it was tragic and heartbreaking.

Helen said...

'Here is the thing about a spring moon-- it will cross the darkness in its own way' ... I love that line. The poem is simply beautiful.

TALON said...

This made me think of dementia...and the pain of losing someone right before your very eyes.

I loved it, Shay, though it made me sad.

Herotomost said...

Ugghhh...thats hard and so very true. This one is like nails on a chalkboard and a knife in the belly, in thought at least. the writing is beautiful as always.

Isadora Gruye said...

I am trying to decide my feelings about this piece and how to best jot them down in a convenient way that will fit inside this square comment box, but my friend, I am not sure this box can contain what "feels" I am having.

I could vomit forth compliments (and why not, you have earned them), but I am certain that may only cheapen this poem).

It's brutal with madness and tender with the nature...thinking here about the robins cocking their heads while he starts the car, and then there is the moon. I amy only trust you and Stacey to write a good moon poem. Kerry pointed out a great line, but my favorite here was:

Nothing anyone can do can change the cycles she must pass through, but once a month she is beautiful again.

One note I thought I would share, I was intrigued by who the narrator of this poem might be: they displayed so much care and reverence of the "her" and so much neutrality of him....I sort of invited my own narrator for this poem which I will use to write a poem of my own.....this has pushed the feels up and myself inward. Well done and viva la

Kay L. Davies said...

Oh, Shay, this is some kind of awesome, awe-some! You never cease to amaze me.
K

Hannah said...

This scares the shit out of me. I have a sister who's lost it a few times, quite awhile ago now (end of winter/spring is tough for me , too), but every spring gets a little iffy. *shudder and sigh* You've written this so well.