and under a dulled sky
grows a grave privilege
I'm sorry for my grief--
it is a wound I worry
but also such a wonder
a life made from memory
here's the real, and there
the merely remembered
you tell me which
it is... I'll confess
I mix and mistake
them all the time--even
dream that some evening
soon it will be spring
and I will be kneeling
down singing and you
will be close to me (even
if you don't like my song)
__________
Pic: A bluejay in the front yard.
Also: And this is freaky--at the end of that week where I had that dream which I worried meant something about my father's time on earth, I got word that my father's older brother passed away. My sister is attending his funeral tomorrow as our family's representative. My sis really does more than her fair share of family stuff because she's awesome. (Plus she's right there.) I have to say though that I felt a pang when I saw the cute invitations that had been sent out for the pooja my mom and sis just hosted--the shortened versions of their names even rhyme ("Manu and Anu")!
10 comments:
I'm so sorry to hear about your uncle, Maya. xo
Take care.
I'm sorry about your uncle. It must be hard to be far away at times like this (if you were close-- not making assumptions because I am not very close to any of my aunts or uncles).
Oh, the second stanza is wonderful. And so true.
Our lives do exist as a series of memories to others. To them, that is our life. And our life exists that way to us as well--just as we remember it. It's fascinating to think about.
My sympathies for the passing of your uncle, maya.
Beautiful poem. And sorry to hear about your uncle. And that is a freaky coincidence. Maybe you're more "there" than you think.
Thanks, Nicole.
Thank you.
Thank you, Steph.
I wasn't particularly close to this uncle, Steph (not particularly close to anyone on my dad's side, actually). But it still feels like a door has closed permanently. (I wasn't writing about losing him here, btw.)
Thank you, Nance. The older I get, the quicker life seems to be passing...
Thank you, Jenny. (I'd rather not think about that... yikes.)
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