I don't miss the arguments
or the madness,
the steady harsh hum of discord.
I don't miss hearing the dogs' toenails
digging against the wood floor
as their sheltered world turned ugly.
I don't miss the eerie sound of
empty accusations
demanding confession of phantom sins.
I don't miss the sound of our son
begging you to stop smashing dishes
when I tried to escape to the bath.
I don't miss the slick drone of lawyers
or the jangle of keys to
homes changing hands.
But when I sat down to eat
at the same table in a different kitchen
with the windows December-dark,
the silence wool-thick
and the opposite chair mute and empty,
I almost couldn't bear it--
almost couldn't face
the long wait for spring.
______
for What's Going On? -- "Silence"
Note: my divorce set me free, but at the time it was awful. I don't think I've ever written about it quite so baldly before.
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Music: Gordon Lightfoot if There's a Reason
Wow, I feel the strong emotion in this, and there is no doubt from your poem what you experienced, and in the long run it was for the better. But then --- the ending.....winters can be long, alone times, silent times, bleak....and in December spring seems so far away. Funny, now that May is here, it does wonders for my mood. Winters always drag me down, but some are worse than others. I appreciate your honesty!
ReplyDeleteLiked the Lightfoot song! Hadn't thought about him in a long time. Hearing this song brought it all back - I did used to like his music a lot!
ReplyDeleteI definitely feel this poem, my friend, especially the stress and turmoil in the former home. The contrast in the second to last stanza - sitting at the same table in a different kitchen, the silence wool-thick - captures the heartbreak of such times in our lives so acutely, it took me back. Not to the end of my marriage, which was a huge relief, but to other heartbreaks that left me devastated. I always love your personal poems best.
ReplyDeleteThe sounds and the silence are both so painful in this poem, which is, of course, brilliantly done. You always get right to the heart in your poems and I felt this one deeply. My divorce set me free, too, but going through it was a nightmare indeed.
ReplyDeleteWhat pierces is, even when all those painful sounds are gone the air still hangs heavy with an overwhelming and almost breathless silence. And the long wait for being alive again seems almost impossible. The poem touches the core.
ReplyDeleteAn almost painfully honest appraisal of the emotional chaos and foundering that comes with divorce. I have had two, but only the second hit me like this. At the time I read somewhere that no matter how much wanted or necessary , dealing with a divorce was like dealing with a death and there's no escaping the grieving. Your poem knows this from the heart on out. Hadn't heard that Lightfoot song in many years. It's the perfect distillation of those feelings you evoke here.
ReplyDeletethis is hard hitting and the line "jangle of keys" really works as the silence is broken - Amazing image of heart break . Excellent stuff.
ReplyDeleteWow. A powerful poem, Shay. That moment you describe towards the end, sitting down at the same table in a different kitchen with the windows December-dark, is such a poignant image.
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ReplyDeleteSorry -- just couldn't abide the typos. My 62-year-old eyes and fingers lag behind my ever-increasingly lagging brain.
DeleteThe repetition of "I don't miss" ironically suggests a missing that makes the loneliness of December-dark that much more stark, a missing of even the utter darkness of a destructive relationship, divorce, lawyers' drone, and that most poignant "jangle of keys of homes changing hands." Homes. One lost, another gained. Longing for spring. Still longing for home. Heartbreaking, Shay. Your poetic light burns brightly to shed light on the heartbreak. May it burn all the more fiercely to bring you "home" in grace, in peace, in joy.
ReplyDeleteA powerful poem, Shay. I remember feeling like that many years ago.
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