Transit

by james left his hat

You make unscheduled stops and that’s when you fill my mind up

You’re a little like a shoe left beside a train track

Most all of you gone, but just a piece of you that you never sent for and did not pick up

Something unfinished

Like a conversation in French and you can’t keep up

Or having left your coffee cup somewhere

Or your best hat on a moving bus

But you keep asking yourself, “What is it I was to remember?”

Under the locomotive movements of your  breath.

When it was a whole human being (it as me, it was me)

Misplaced and with your recklessness my trust was put to death.

You are around here, in bits, my dear

Not present anymore but there is proof you were here

The way a crease lies in a pillow

Where a head once slept

I can hear you talking , saying, “Put your collar up.”

And the way you said it stays

Reminding me you tried (tho all the while you pushed me to the tracks) to keep me safe.

Just when I thought the echoes in my heart had stopped

The dimples in your smile can be seen

Reading me old poetry and conjuring us, the lovers, up.

Like it was yesterday.

Remember the night you read me to sleep?

You’re like a hand that waves from a passing bus

A face that does not click until it’s past

And there’s no time for me to lift my hand up

You come and go at inconvenient times and yet,

Although you fade like a light does in the distance

25.media.tumblr.com

25.media.tumblr.com

I cannot see the end

I can’t forget.

2 Comments to “Transit”

  1. sounds like my dad~ i seem to always be picking up bits of pieces he’s left behind from conversations or events, never quite a full picture but hints that haunt/ you understand terribly well and your poetry resonates tenderness and frustration that can’t seem to find its destination ~ very poignant !

  2. Thank you so much!

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