The concept was just a bit ago
Clear; then in its midst I lost
The ability to move. I must
It seems, be able to clench
My fist and then my mind in that
Order. Without that I merely dream,
Drifting like a slow moving cloud
Whose outline seems fixed until
Measured against another.
Even if I think out loud and in
The brief time past look down,
I can watch my fist unfurl.
“Just swallow the sunshine”
Pressed the Shadow. Well
For him to say in his hiding.
I’ve lost substance by his
Side these passed few years,
Cloven from shielded eyes.
The last of us trudged up
Here to set our baskets down
Saying one to the other,
“This much is good” and
Began to weep. There
Was music pulsating
Behind. Urging inexorably
Our staying here in this
Place till we
Who can still stand
Crane our necks and stare
At the sun till we go blind.
Pushing open the wrought-iron gate
I’d had enough of just looking in –
Needing to be there on the other
Side. I let it slam behind me.
The clang introduced an
Element of doubt. I had skills
My history proved them,
But no evidence of this,
Clicking through to a place
I’d neither studied for
Nor imagined. Looking
About I saw they neither
Dressed nor looked like me
Their hair hung in tatters.
Their homework was rolled up
Under their arms. Up on the
Walls, well armed guards
Walked to and fro; yet
No one challenged me for
Being there. It wasn’t long
Before I learned my place.
Life moved swiftly then.
My dreams of Susan
Faded. My doubts
About being there when
She was not diminished.
The cripple-ness in my knee
Began to spread.
Walking across the front lawn
Early in this chirping-crisp brisk
Morning – the sun blinking its
Bright light through the trees,
Breezes meandering, spread
Widely enough to stir the leaves,
And grasses and flowers beneath them.
How often did I wake here
Trousers cinched with a broad
Belt, my ancient Ninety-two
Pulling them further down than
They did when we were new?
I might know if I were thinking
Clearly, the way to the top.
There was a time I wouldn’t stop
On such a morning until I stood
Up there, drinking espresso
From my thermos’ cup, but I
Can’t make it beyond here, this
Morning, being too old and feeble
For anything more than this.
We were often there, taking
The stairs two at a time
While the chance of falling
Wasn’t a consideration, and
A helping hand being there
Was for touch and not
Really for help. I recall
The touch. I thought I could
Handle losing it, but failed
To understand the breaking
Down of her understanding,
That withdrawing
Touch of consequence,
Memory loss, loss of most
Of what she was. I would
Have stayed at sea if she could
Have stayed, but she was
Slowly leaving in her mind,
Me hearing her go in every
Conversation, time trickling away
Like sand through my fingers.
There was a blaring
Back up beyond the hill we’d
Just come down. Someone
Pursued us. A bull horn
Voice strengthened and
Threatened. Unable
To think, I stumbled
Away as well as I could.
I had been writing and
Raised my hand with a pen
There clinging. My other
Held a walking stick
And at my feet Jessica bared
Her few remaining teeth.
My pen was knocked away
And my poor hearing
Turned their sounds into
Raucous screeching. They
Shook their heads at
My conspicuous ineptness
In this now-righteous domain.
Brooding at my desk
From an open book
Resisting a hand full
Of sleep from time
To time, recalling
As I drift forward
Or aft the soft sail
Boat sway on a calm
Day, Susan brilliantly
Smiling into a morning’s
Rising sun – time stilling,
Watching my main
Sail flutter, and never
Caring until that time
Ran out and runs out still
Sitting here snapping awake
From my palm-perch which
I flex and flex until I have
The feeling back – the
Rest of me though loses all
That is back there once again
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