Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Whitman's Widow

While I remember the days we spent exploring,
Hiking the banks of rivers and driving to new places,
The memories fade and become darker with time.
While I remember wandering the stone streets in Italy,
And I remember the dinners at restaurants we took such joy in discovering,
And I remember the liquor and the heat in the throat,
The pictures become less defined every day.
The specific dates, the names of the places, even the time frame and the seasons become unclear.
While I remember the tears and the tangled lungs and the fighting,
And I remember the frenzied grasping and the tired over-explaining,
And I remember the apologizing and the half hearted forgiving,
The sounds and the pain and the specifics of the disagreements are white washed.
A dream you know you had but cannot retell, for all the details have already escaped you.
I remember it, but not as well as I remember the feeling of you.
And of us.
The imprint of your heart on mine,
The weight of your lips and how they moved me,
Echoes of your voice and how it calmed me.
In the end all that truly remains,
Is that we were together.
I forget the rest.

*{The line "we were together, I forget the rest, borrowed from Walt Whitman's poem Song of Myself, from Leaves of Grass}

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