A Poem

I used to write song lyrics all the time, but I never wrote much poetry. I enjoyed it when I did, but writing songs was usually more interesting to me.

However, sometimes the poetry comes out instead. As it did with this piece I wrote after hearing about a friend’s death. I stumble across it every few years and I thought this time I should share it in her memory.

1/29/2010

I recall the cushy chair
In attic space
You first in place
Small cadre
Dark corners

I recall the old man
Dancing zydeco
Before Menander
You joined unbidden
Before us all

I recall the yellow light
You, Bret, David
ASL, IPA
Familiar and foreign
Both dancing in your eyes

I remember when
I heard the news
Like something from
Pynchon’s pen
Hotels, moneys, a new name
Dreams derailed
Pages full to edge with nothing

I recall a sailor story
Silver chains and back room tears
Black water stretching out
Road suspended overhead
I understand the water’s calling
I don’t get your reply