he's gone

He's gone. Two weeks wasn't enough. Two months wouldn't be enough. This is the part that I hate. The leaving part. The parting part. Four years and seven trips between us. It doesn't get easier. We've traded pieces of ourselves. Together we're whole. Separate we are yearning. Simply said: I miss him.

A poem, of course.

The Unquarried Blue of Those Depths is All But Blinding

By Ashley Anna McHugh

There are some things we just don’t talk about—
Not even in the morning, when we’re waking,
When your calloused fingers tentatively walk
The slope of my waist:
How love’s a rust-worn boat,
Abandoned at the dock—and who could doubt
Waves lick their teeth, eyeing its hull? We’re taking
Our wreckage as a promise, so we don’t talk.
We wet the tired oars, tide drawing us out.
We understand there’s nothing to be said.
Both of us know the dangers of this sea,
Warned by the tide-worn driftwood of our pasts—.
But we’ve already strayed from the harbor. We thread
A slow wake though the water—then silently,
We start to row, and will for as long as this lasts.

And another:

On Marriage

By Meghan O'Rourke

Stone by stone, body by body in the grass:
For this we trade our lone compass,

Become swans instead, adrift in glaze-
Light, kilned in the arms of each other

Into vessel-vassal new. Or shrew,
As the case may be. What would you do?

Listen to the footsteps in the thistles.
Put the kettle on for tea, and whisper it to me.



goatman said...

I have to say: the first two lines of On Marriage brought a tear. Why does she do this to herself, and us? But how true, and truth does sometimes hurt.

"Waves licking their teeth" was fun!

At least you had Houston. . . . .

Anonymous said...

I like that first one. I've taken a lover, and its going to end badly. I just know it. But the rowing is very good for just now.

red dirt girl said...

Hi Goatman,

I confess I skipped the first two lines of On Marriage and went straight for the 'pottery' images of the second two: "adrift in glaze...
kilned in the arms of each other." Not to mention a kettle of tea for my englishman. But you're right: those first two lines pack a punch when you slow down to study them. Maybe I'm even sadder than I thought! Glad you liked the toothy waves :) Indeed, I'll always have Houston.

red dirt girl said...

Hi Cowboy,

I'm happy to read you've 'strayed from the harbor' and taken to the sea of love again. It's a wondrous thing even for old deckhands like us. Remember, the details are in the journey, so enjoy the rowing and forget about the destination. It's all good!

gz said...

I like the first one.
It was good indeed, despite the scars of our previous pasts.

Thankyou for your comment. I've used the last part of that poem on the rim of a platter, I hope you saw it on the blog.
I don't presume to know everything my brother does, why should he presume about his, whom he saw infrequently?

soubriquet said...

Oh my.

Oh my.

just for once, I don't have a poem with which to reply. I'll raise my mug of tea to you, I'll even sugar it, for you.
All I could think, somewhere in the dark, eight miles above the sea, was "I'm travelling in the wrong direction".

red dirt girl said...

Hi gz,

and welcome! the platter is lovely. as for presumptions - you said it, girlfriend!


red dirt girl said...

Dearest Soubry,

Funny. I had the same thought heading west on the tollway. Sigh.


Dave Renfro said...

The first two lines of the O'Rourke poem escape me completely, as do the other six. Why do people keep trying to capture in words things that cannot be captured in words?

Hi mule friend!

red dirt girl said...

Hi Dave!

It is a rather obtuse poem to decipher. And reams and reams have been written on marriage. Maybe it is precisely the elusiveness of this poem that describes what you are saying.