How I Spent My Vacation

Sunday
I am back within the enveloping gloom.
This is not a metaphor. The sky is dark.
The sun is gone. The soaring, sullen
Evergreens reduce me, as they did before.
I move in silence, damp and furtive,
Pushing through the underbrush toward
A clearing I assume must show up
Sometime. Is there one, and, from it,
Would I see myself, my place, the reason
Why the gloom will cling to me, like beads
Of water, even after I have gotten home?


Wednesday
Time speeds, this time not alone in interfering
With a love. Tightly woven matrices of age and
Kinship block the passage I would make from
Here to her, if there was time, and, if, as probing
Eyes and blurted words and awkward silences
Have seemed to show, there are two hearts in
Which a single love has grown.


Thursday
The news, such as they have us see it, drones
Above the waiting room. The plane is parked
Against the gate. The nearby chairs are occupied
By business people on their phones. I seem to
Be the only one who notices the bleary sky, and
Wishes someone else was here to either make
This flight with me or say I shouldn't go.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 41 times
Written on 2014-06-20 at 14:36

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