Middle Archaic Spear Point
As for what you look like
now that distance and the
years
can calculate the damage...
I fell in love with the man
who wrote the poetry
I see him by the ocean in
the moonlight
and at his family's graves
I see him in the high pasture
of his home
wading in the creek
Fragrance of his mother's
roses
drifting...
in his father's laughter
As his brother sleeps-in
– forever
I see you drinking coffee
little Bobo, on your lap
stars reflect
chihuahua-huge
Devotion
in his limpid, darling eyes
I see you, sullen one
whom I would have followed
just to know you...
curious
in some foreign forest
so far south of my accent
lost in time and purpose
there in Georgia
and what were you thinking
while waiting for your son?
And what else?
Only God could know the
rest....I see you in the moon that pulls the tides
across the ages
till our eyes meet in your
words – a piercing
so unexpected
Elizabeth Balise
Liz
Balise is a long-time resident of Scranton, Pennsylvania who grew up in
Springfield, Massachusetts. Most of her working life has been devoted to human
services and to teaching English in public schools. Poetry entered her life as
a teenager, but real love for it was fostered by her relationship with her
Marywood College mentor, Barbara Hoffman. A solitary writer when not in front
of a classroom, she filled journals and canvas bags with scraps of life,
thinking always, “They must mean something?” Poems, short stories, and articles
have appeared in ergo magazine of the old Prufrock’s Cafe in Scranton. Online
work has been published in SWITCH 2017 and also in Mothers Aways Write, October
2019. She was a featured poet for the United States and Canada in The Blue Nib,
September 2019.
Tags:
Poetry
Good one for the old guys. Glad someone remembers us.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem.
ReplyDelete