|May 2003 / Volume Four / Issue Two|
|Memory Devices II - For James (in response to a poem by David Bates)
The dingy scent of an age-old letter,
the fragile fuzz of a fading sweater,
or the chewed leather of a borrowing belt-
They soften sharp edges and provide ledges
for me to cling.
Years fade indiscriminately and
I grow into a woman, but boys who died still unripe
clutch onto parts of me- tainting what was once sweet.
My seduction of a bottle of wine holds promise,
but no future- like those lost loves.
Sadness isnít something that holds onto you-
it is something that we hold onto
with hope of bolder acquaintance and faster flaming futures.
Tears still come in uncontrollable waves
now from lust for life.
Laughter comes from love of spirit and clumsy understanding-
like waltzing with slumber.
|Return to May 2003|