Ebb and flow
The come and go of all that is,
The crescendo of sunlight into a room,
The fade to black of a long night dying.

The faces change,
Even the ones on the children
As they stretch into their futures,
Becoming the grown-ups that will
Shape a future made of such a bleak present.

But I remember your face,
Your touch,
Your promises implied but never delivered.
I remember our child
And how you didn’t want to bring her here
So badly that you paid good money
For the pain that has stayed with me for all these decades.

I remember all the men I conjured to replace you.
I remember every piece of my heart I tried to offer,
To no avail,
For they were all yours, for so long;
And the anger that’s always been here,
Lurking for opportunities to rage
Beyond my tongue and into the lives of
The folks trying to love me.

I still feel the peace, out of reach now,
Maybe only for another moment;
The ebb and flow of it all,
The arrival and departure of every type of experience,
The decisions that shape who I am
And the realization that, after 45 years,
I still don’t know.

In my dreams I fly.
I show them all that even a fat girl can,
Trying to teach them that it’s as easy
As the gentle rising of a wind.

Where do I go but forward,
Depending on Destiny to work things out,
Chanting the Holy Names like there’s no tomorrow,
Hope floating on a breeze
I inhale every chance I get,
Grateful for the wispy fingers of mercy
That touch my face now and again,
The most sacred relief in a life of chaos of confusion,
And one too many stones
Anchoring me to this dismal reality.

05/28/2008

Author's Note: For Tim Fitzgerald.

Posted on 05/28/2008
Copyright © 2025 Alison McKenzie