Monday, December 21, 2009

Your name has come to put me in mind
of a dot on a map, the name of a place
I haven't been in years.

There are towns I've lived in and loved
but left behind, for whatever reason.
I return, months later, and names of streets
have changed; I don't remember the shortcuts;
my favorite spots have become hard to find.

Once, I built a nice warm home
on your shoulder. I went to church
in the crook of your neck, my favorite dive bar
a dimly lit joint on your upper thigh. Live music
all the time and the best drinks in town.
But I've been away for some months now and wonder:
When I go back to visit, will I remember
the shortcuts? The backroads? The best hill
to ride my bike down? Will I find it only
to feel the wind in my face just once, strong and wild,
right before I have to leave?


Paradox said...

Hi. Just passing through - clicking on the "next blog" option in the hope that I might find something interesting and came across your poem. I really like it. It's wistful and beautiful and captures well the vulnerability of being human.

Thanks for this!

I've got a poetry blog, too if you feel like dropping by - always good to share with other creative types! No pressure though.

Thank you again for helping to start my day with a good quality moment.

gb said...

thanks for the beautiful poem