Sunday, October 3, 2010

Sunday, Bookstore Cafe



Sunday morning,

I bought a blueberry muffin and a book;

The book I set aside.



The slant of light through the big windows

Reminded me of you, and again I found myself mourning;

I always feed my mourning.



My muffin is a sweet golden brown, uneven and pleasing to the touch,

Like your arms with the delicate hairs up and down them,

And, sometimes, the little rising bumps.



I cannot trust my vision,

And so I peel the fluted paper by feel, as I did when undressing you

With fingertips like cirrus clouds.



I have never been able to resist

Sweetness flecked with blue...

I have never been able to allay

My tenderness or my hunger...for you.



Even though I know

The thorn in my heart is not the muffin in my hand,

I seek it there.

Berries plucked too early are tart--

And yet I savor them,

Holding them on my tongue as I held you in perfect moments--

When vivid life coursed up through your body

Like your fingers through my hair.



A little girl says,

"Mommy, that lady is crying."

But I am only finishing my blueberry muffin,

Kissing its soft heart

Even as I devour it

With an appetite I hadn't known I still possessed.

_______

17 comments:

Daryl said...

I will never see/eat a blueberry muffin without thinking of your painterly words

Sherry Blue Sky said...

WOW! I think - one of your best! The grief is palpable and the muffin....oh, that muffin! It happens I make wicked blueberry muffins and have a short short story about muffins I made for someone once right after he dumped me-because he'd miss my MUFFINS???? (Oh, good God!)

ANYWAY. BEAUTIFUL!
"fingertips like cirrus clouds"
The real-life Sunday morning/mourning, the melancholy, the imagery, the perfection of the writing........poems just dont get any better than this.

The Square Corner said...

This is a beautiful poem. Thank you.

TechnoBabe said...

Wow, I had a blueberry muffin this morning but this brings a whole new and enlightened meaning to eating a muffin!

La Belette Rouge said...

I found myself mourning;I always feed my mourning." Oh, do I ever relate. So beautiful. this poem is, and the boy seeing your grief made me think of this poem:
http://thestorialist.blogspot.com/2010/09/empathy.html
xoxo

Riot Kitty said...

Oddly enough I just made blueberry muffins! Seriously, this is quite nice.

Everyday Goddess said...

Delicious!

mac said...

This is masterful.

My words cannot express how this makes me feel.
I am, saddenedstupifiedenthralledfuckingamazed.

Scarlet Ily said...

Can you GET more passionate?? I liked the "sweetness flecked with blue" and "hunger...for you" verse most of all. Wow!

TALON said...

So sensuous...so sad, too.

willow said...

Bittersweet, this muffin.

Mama Zen said...

How sad and beautiful.

Lynn said...

So melancholy - those beautiful words...

RachelW said...

Tee hee! :0) The poor muffin probably didn't even see it coming.

Carrie Burtt said...

Once again you have a whole way all your own to capture a grieving heart...you are amazing Shay!:-)

Mojo said...

Wow. I can't even make a muffin joke. This is too bittersweet.

Cloudia said...

Starve a stoning

feed a yearning...
or something...


mmmm, blueberries!