“Blue and Silver Fish Jumping Across the River” The Sunday Whirl #164

Daytime:
I am flattered by friendly hellos and simple words
about the weather, while I listen to bells that aren’t
as broken as my smile, I am searching for me,
but it’s like asking for directions at an abandoned gas station.
My empty heart moves along.

Nighttime:
When darkness comes; I’m surrounded
by blue and silver fish swimming in single files.
You show me bees and butterflies
that once lived amongst the sunflowers in our garden,
while my muffled voice speaks a silent
language — can you hear me?
Between the sheets I feel for a safe
place to sleep as I count the number of
days that have passed by — can you see me?

I cry,
I breathe,
I try to fit into my skinned existence.
Can I ever say goodbye to you?

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15 responses to ““Blue and Silver Fish Jumping Across the River” The Sunday Whirl #164

  1. Oh, this is good.

  2. Beautiful, painful write. I don’t think you ever really say goodbye. There are only stages of departure. Sigh. And sending you light.

  3. You don’t really want to say goodbye except to that deep sense of loss and things out of order. It does mellow but takes its own time. Meanwhile it makes beautifully honest and deeply felt poetry. I, for one, wish only to thank you for sharing it,

    Elizabeth
    http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/2014/06/08/when-wordle-words-wont-work/

  4. Sensitive, touching write. In my experience working with death, there is no goodbye…only a lessening of pain that still, from time to time, breaks through when something prompts a memory. One line that struck me as especially evocative was the one about asking for directions. So glad you use writing as a means to express your loss because it’s full of lessons for all of us. I can see these being put into a volume and made available for others who are going through what you are going through. I’m serious.

  5. No, I dont think so. That would be letting go and sometimes we love so much we just dont want to, right? I second Victoria – a volume of such poems would be amazing and resonant for many – when you are ready – and have written your way through more of the process. I especially loved “I am searching for me, but it’s like asking for directions at an abandoned gas station” and your “skinned existence.” It is a privilege to read these poems as you slowly make your way through the bleak landscape of loss.

  6. With a love so deep it is best continue on as though they are still there. Don’t be in a hurry to put them out of your mind. You can still talk to them and they you as they are there inside you.

  7. Each person grieves differently and you will go through the stages just fine…with time…this is poignant and lovely.

  8. Your sadness is palpable with bells and broken smiles…searching through the sheets for something safe. Love is undying. Thanks for sharing your journey, my friend. This is a beautiful poem.

  9. This is so sad! It makes my heart ache.

  10. Heartfelt sorrow, beautifully written!

  11. Skinned existence is a piercing statement..i think some events leave you exposed and sore for all of time..maybe it’s about finding things that soothe as it’s impossible to take away..hellos and simple words can be like treasure when all seems lost and simply not right..a peaceful Tuesday to you – and hello xo

  12. yes, i would like to think they can hear you….i dont know what would be harder…being around others….those that knew the two of you and being constantly reminded…or being left alone in the evening with your own memories….hugs….

  13. How I love to savor those wonderful past.How so sustaining is the power that binds. The feeling’s obviously is in abundance but is hurting somehow. It makes a beautiful write within such a context! Brilliant Pamelita!

    Hank

  14. scotthastiepoet

    A wonderfully brave, precise and yet strangely joyful… (and above all real!) poem about loss… You blow me away sometimes with both your power and the quality of your craft Pamela…

I appreciate all comments.

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