Jean L. Kreiling
A Late Gesture
I held her hand a lot that final year,
as if to beg her not to disappear.
I'd learned the gesture in our distant past,
when I was little, but now I'd been cast
as caregiver, the one who said "I'm here"
and "I'll do that." Her usual good cheer
seemed sturdy—but was that just a veneer
beneath which doubts and worries had amassed?
I held her hand
to reassure her I'd always be near
to see her through her unacknowledged fear,
through pain and loss and change that came too fast,
through good times that we both knew couldn't last.
To hold age harmless, to hold back a tear,
I held her hand.
Foul-Weather Reunion
(Kennebunkport, Maine)
for Cam, Jane, Kate, Maureen, and Sally
As raindrops fell, the six of us shed years
to nurture our perennial connection;
grown women now, with children and careers,
we splashed through puddles and soaked up affection.
As fog insinuated its obscure
and shapeless drift into a dozen eyes,
we gladly saw the same amorphous blur
of past and present, dreams and compromise.
We walked the shore, ate lobster, and agreed
that we had weathered far worse than this rain;
wet shoes and dripping hair would not impede
reunion revels. Foggy days in Maine
made clear a truth on which our bond depends:
we've always been more than fair-weather friends.
|
|
 |
 |
|
 |
 |
The most recent addition to The Mezzo Cammin Women Poets Timeline is Etel Adnan by Joyce Wilson.
Save the date: A Celebration of the Timeline reaching 75 essays. Lincoln Center, Fordham University (Sponsored by Fordham's Curran Center) Friday, October 20th, 7 p.m.
|
|
|
 |
|