Saturday, May 23, 2015

Still

"What matters most is how well we walk through the fire." --Charles Bukowski

The maple keys are falling, as they do every year.
I have taken to reading out in the yard,
while my new dog wanders.

My walnut tree, the one the winter nearly killed two years ago,
is green again, a home and pantry for squirrels.
It is Michigan cool, late May, but warming.

I don't dream of your body as much as I used to,
but my dreams are full of you all the same.
I line up these poems like dolls, a puppet show to please you.

Books end, dogs die, summer runs its course.
Stay, won't you, sweetheart? Call me when you can--
I will be here, spinning like a maple key, still your breezy northern girl.
______

For Play it Again, Toads. I chose Kenia's challenge to start with a line from a poet you don't like. I dislike Charles Bukowski, the idol of many. Too much booze, too much ugliness. I got the idea to write a very gentle poem about a very bold thing--making it through this life with some sort of grace.


15 comments:

Sanaa Rizvi said...

I will be here, spinning like a maple key, still your breezy northern girl.

This is so romantic! :D Loved the clever play on words! Beautifully penned! :D

Lots of love
xoxo

Mama Zen said...

Perfect and gentle as a breeze.

hedgewitch said...

This really builds up its own atmosphere word by word--reflective, calm, but light over the hard ground and firm on the easy. I can feel the visuals as if I were sitting there, and those thoughts--yes, they are every bit as real and familiar. Beautiful writing, Shay.

TexWisGirl said...

gentle and yet, time just slips by...

loved this line: It is Michigan cool, late May, but warming.

as a former northern girl, it is perfect.

angieinspired said...

Shay, I find it interesting to learn about your disdain for Bukowski. I may have felt he was too banal until I appreciated his astute view of himself as a bum. I can respect anyone who calls it like it is. If any redemption, Steinbeck called himself the same thing. Your 3rd & 4th stanza really vibe with Stevie Nicks (whom I also like).

berri myst said...

"My walnut tree, the one the winter nearly killed two years ago" I feel like this line might be a metaphor for a painful time in your relationship. Everything has died, is dying, or will die. But you're hoping this relationship will defy the laws of nature. I think what happened two years ago could have destroyed your love for each other, but it didn't. Maybe it is so deep that it can survive anything.

Susie Clevenger said...

"I line up these poems like dolls, a puppet show to please you." I love that line.

brudberg said...

Even a walk through fire can be gentle as the fall of maple keys, actually I think that connection make it even stronger.

Kerry O'Connor said...

This is achingly beautiful - the kind of love poem I would like to have written myself because it shows both sides of the coin: togetherness and separation with strong ties to the natural world.

blueoran said...

Bukowski is our generation's David Riley, the booze excuse for writing bad poems--hey, I was drunk when I did this--snake oil truth juice ... Anyway, it was interesting where you went with this, stripping away the raw veneer and speaking so gently of the roughest truths. Amen, and fare well.

Stacy Lynn Mar said...

aww....so bittersweet!

so much i love about this piece....particularly the lining of poems like dolls, a puppet show.

so refreshing to see your work again...you have a unique voice i always enjoy.

:)

Hannah said...

I love this voice, Shay. Gentle and beautiful poem.

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

It is indeed a lovely, gentle poem, on one of Bukowski's best lines. (I like a lot of his poetry but have formed the opinion that he must have been a horrible person.)

Sherry Blue Sky said...

This is so lovely - and loving.

mac said...

Yes, even though I shouldn't have those dreams, I often do.