It seems like Poetry Thursday was just a couple of days ago, but here it is again. I smile this morning knowing that the next Poetry Thursday will be here next week. I love poetry.
Sometime in the last two weeks, I visited Christina over at My Topography and read this post about a conversation between Robert Bly and William Stafford. Although my heart was warmed by Stafford the story (if you visit me here every now and then you know how I adore William Stafford) and I appreciated the idea behind a poem a day, my instant thought was, “Well, I don’t have time for that.”
This morning, I found myself awake an hour before I planned to wake up and the words for this poem came to me. Even though I drifted back to sleep, they woke me up an hour later and insisted they were a poem meant to be written. This is just a draft, a simple morning poem, but I share it with you.
A morning poem (9/28/06)
In the hour of vulnerability just before dawn
my fuzzy thoughts are with you
in your hospital bed as you took your last breath.
In the kitchen, my husband takes a plate
down from the cupboard that
clanks as it touches the counter.
That sound incites my memory
to grab my hand like Peter Pan,
and we slip out the window.
I pad down the hallway and
curl up on the couch with sleepy
anticipation of our day together.
Sliding open the kitchen door
you see me and say the magic words,
“Do you want a Surprise?”
A slight smile curves around the security blanket
thumb in my mouth as I nod.
Before you turn toward the kitchen,
you walk to the television and turn on Channel 9,
knowing my internal clock sets to
“The Bozo Show” the weeks I stay with you.
In a few minutes you will appear again
with exotic treats of sliced banana, cranberry juice,
and peanut butter sandwiched between Cheerios.
In this hour of vulnerability just before dawn,
grief and love tuck me back into bed
as I drift off to memories of
you, laughter, and sounds of “The Grand Prize Game.”