• landing gear

    by  • April 30, 2013 • grief, poetry • 3 Comments

    landing gearI realize I have been silent here for a couple of weeks. For a number of reasons, I have found it hard to get here. I could not let National Poetry Month pass without one more poem, however. I have been moved by this image and the story of the discovery of the landing gear from one of the planes that was crashed into the Twin Towers on September 11, 2001, which set me to thinking about the ways in which grief catches us off guard — and how deeply I miss Reuben and David, in particular.

    landing gear

    it’s been a long time
    grief old enough to be
    in middle school . . .
    then one turn down
    a trash-filled alley and
    the feelings are fresh

    the days give distance
    but the pain doesn’t age
    a fragment of memory
    somehow tucked away
    a shard of a song and
    my heart breaks open

    yes, life layers over losses
    but you’re not lost —
    you’re gone your’e gone
    every time I want to talk
    to tell you something
    you’re still not here

    so I will keep turning
    down alleyways tearing
    open old memories to
    remember you were
    here with me with me
    that I’ll never forget



    Blogging since December 2005


    3 Responses to landing gear

    1. April 30, 2013 at 11:28 pm

      Good to hear from you again, Milton. Thanks.

    2. Grace Tice
      April 30, 2013 at 11:52 pm

      Ah, I’ve missed you.

    3. May 1, 2013 at 9:20 pm

      life layers over losses
      but you’re not lost –

      What a beautiful way to say it, Milton.

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