I have been experimenting with poetry, learning as I go. I like the idea of having some freedom with grammar and sentence structure, though I’m pretty sure that’s not the way poetry works. I’ll just consider this my rebel phase, with the embarrassment phase to come at a later date. While the connections in this trio may only be obvious to some, they reflect a life with friends who have inspired, challenged and comforted me for many, many years. You know who you are.
A cup of complicity
My coffee and I
huddle in complicity.
Like partners in crime,
stealing an hour
before committing ourselves to
verbal and vertical living.
Daylight is not my adversary,
don’t speak until the second cup.
It’s an inconvenient truth,
how I ransom the sunrise
before waking the day.
The morning after my daughter’s wedding,
we sit at the picnic table, with coffee and bagels
savoring time with each other.
My friend, the one who rubbed my back
when my first baby was born, and
is the namesake for my second,
“We don’t have enough time left
to make more lifelong friends.
This is it.”
Forty years together, give or take a few.
Successes, failures and that boring space between.
full heads of hair,
and bodies that do as we ask.
Surviving, recovering, healing,
making and creating
as life hovers around us.
The influence shows up, even when we’re not
in the same place.
We’ve had plenty of time,
but never enough.
The wide angle lens blurs
hard edges and distorts reality.
Curving, perfectly so
we can avoid focus
on a single
Handy when one prefers
the distant horizon rather
than the intimate truth.
Farm fields, flowering meadows,
rubenesque hills and wild seas.
All those possibilities, just outside the frame,
longing to be part of the picture.
the wide angle is of no use
when precise attention is required to examine
a tiny moment, making small work,
without backing into a corner.
The scuffed soul, leftover love, and roadside trash—
the stinky stuff of life.
Sometimes it’s best to take what shows up,
unfiltered and unaltered.
Context be damned.
Black and white photos by Monica Lee