Saturday, December 21, 2013

Close to a dock on the bay

It was something my wife said. Something along the lines of not being unable to stop thinking about her, wearing the gloves and coat she got me - who is going to dress us now?

My brother asked if I would write a nice poem. I was a bit raw at the time, it may not have been nice.

The morning of the viewing I got in the rental and headed south down Ocean Avenue, it ended at a park on the Great South Bay. I parked the car on a windy, cold and damp morning and wrote this while Captain Jack was on the radio. Had it in my back pocket all weekend, but was never asked if I wanted to read anything. It's ok that I was not, was ready though.

An Endless Covering

You gave me your skin
these clothes on my back
and we wonder who will dress us
now that you are no longer here
to answer long distance phone calls
on Sunday nights.
Calls for advice, venting
a reveal of good news
and changes in health
Because you fought so hard
we will keep in motion
the way the water on the windy
Great South Bay
leaps at high tide
We continue and know that in our dressers,
our camphor closets are stocked
with sweaters, warm socks
that forever remind us
of your love