Over at dVerse Poets Pub Brian Miller has challenged us for his Poetics post to explore what can only be seen with a 'third eye', those things that can only be known, beyond our true ability to see or touch something. His post reminded me of the tenderness of this interaction with a dear friend from a few years ago.
She sat lost somewhere
beyond the moment,
not connecting to
the drivvle of her
favorite show...
Somewhere far
beyond our words,
drifting into the darkness,
"Momma is that you?"
Stillness filled the room
as she looked up, around...
smiling at what was there.
"Her dress is beautiful,
did you see it?"
"Don't go yet, it's been
so long..." Silence engulfed
us, filling the crevices
of the space around us,
momentary glimpses...
"She died when I was
five. Wasn't her dress
beautiful? I'll be with
her soon, you know."
She sat smiling, looking
upward...
A calm slowly overtook
her fidgeting hands. The
television continued to
drone on, noting the
world of victims of
the day's burdens.
Special Victims
contrasting the quietness
of her breath as it eased
from her lips, tender as
the child's hand.
Innocence of childhood,
a heart broken, a
mother's love stolen
from her on that
lonely dark road some
sixty odd years ago.
Tomorrow we would
need to drive that endless
road to nowhere, the
scarred bark branching
out to hold her.
A single tear trickled
down to catch the
edge of her smile,
her knowing one
day soon they would
be together again,
forever.
Petrina Lesko
August 2011
