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Sunday, May 20, 2012

Poem - Who Will Tell Our Story

Friday was the two year anniversary of Colleen's death.  I cannot believe that it has already been two years.  So much in my life has changed and yet the old feelings are still right below the surface.
 Above is a photo I took on 05/18/12 on the beach at Buckhorn State Park, one of Colleen's favorite places and one of the places I spread some of her ashes.  Below is a poem that I've been cobbling together for several months.  Though words have been my life; it is times like these when I realize just how inadequate they are.
*     *     *     *     *  
Who Will Tell Our Story

Two years
since you left me
and I realize that
someone meeting
me today might
never
know of
your existence.

Except
there is the ring
that no longer fits
that I wear
on a necklace
where it chimes
against yours
("C + C 10-30-03"
 engraved inside both).
 
Also, in my house
(a place you never got to see)
your name is on a box
that I will never
unpack. 
And the mail is
only rarely addressed
to you.

What about
the questions:
How am I
to feel that there are strangers
living in all
our
former homes?

Are my stories
of deepest
and truest
meaning diminished
because they have
become dated?

Is it okay that some of
"our" friends
have become
"my" friends
and others
I have not
spoken to?

My dreams
about you are
now more precious,
bizarre,
and unreal. 

Worse,
however,
is that
I still 
nervously
fidget without
a hand
to hold.