Follow The Sound
by Maria Kintner
I try to keep your fingerprints.
The ones that steam up in the shower
gripping your bottles of shampoo.
I try to keep your razor still,
with whiskers clinging to the blade,
off-kilter and frozen.
I don't want to use your towel.
It hangs next to mine, and I
would rather soak the carpet than
grab it for myself.
Your clothes are unwashed,
piling up in a basket. I lay on them
and pretend that your heart is beating
underneath me, quiet and soothing.
Your shoes remain neglected. People
tell me to give them away, but I don't want to.
I want my feet to grow, so I can wear them
and feel the awkward curve of your foot caress my own.
Anything and everything to prove to myself.
You were alive once. A week ago, you breathed in my face
and your hands tickled my skin.
You laughed loudly, and smiled with your eyes.
But you are made of water. Of ice. Of snow.
And the warmth of the sun melted you through my
fingers. You ran in a puddle along my feet,
and joined the Ocean of Time.
It is all I can do to not jump in,
and inhale you. To drown in your essence
and taste the salt of your tears.
I am alone here, on this island.
It is barren and wind blown.
The walls are bleached by the sun
and the trees produce no fruit.
I am waiting.
Author's Note: I could never imagine such pain and heartbreak. Never in my life.
Posted on 05/16/2008
Copyright © 2020 Maria Kintner
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Charlie Morgan on 05/16/08 at 08:33 PM|
...maria, you just did imagine the pain and heartache, in your words, and you rang a bell, dearOne, peace, charlie
|Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 05/17/08 at 01:26 AM|
I feel the tears, the heartache, the sense of lostness, the desire to be with the lost one. I know something of what you are going through since I lost my wife just short of 14 years ago. But a poem like this brings something of the sense of loss back again. May God console you in the coming weeks and months and,yes, years.
|Posted by Rhiannon Jones on 05/17/08 at 11:59 AM|
Beautiful, raw, and intensely affecting. My heart is with you.
|Posted by Sandy M. Humphrey on 05/20/08 at 01:56 PM|
Your pain and lonliness is so intense yet your sharing in your writing is so intricate and beautiful...my heart is with you. smh
|Posted by Allison Smith on 10/02/10 at 11:22 AM|
I buried by child 3 years ago on Monday. I know the depth of your despair. I really needed this.
|Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 07/19/14 at 01:37 AM|
Really a powerful piece. Congrats on POTD. I wonder how you are doing 6 years later.
|Posted by Rhiannon Jones on 07/19/14 at 02:00 AM|
I remember this poem. I am stilled so very deeply moved by your brave and poignant words. I hope you are well.