Be careful not to burn the pan. I always do. But, man, is this delicious! I'm sitting by the open door while the rain cleanses the world. My former boyfriend Simon used to shower in his backyard in the rain. It's in the novel. I had him using Irish Spring cuz it smells so good.
I'm going thru my old poems, one by one. Am gonna load another one about my former psychiatrist, Larry, but on Larry's page. Simon also saw Larry. We were once two manic-depressives in love.
And Simon's manic-depression went away before mine did. He simply stopped taking his meds and the damn beast never returned.
SIMON, IT'S RAINING
In the early days
when you wore a black mustache
and a shirt that was bluer than the Mediterranean
you would call to me:
Little Girl,
sit with me on the back porch
and help me watch the rain.
From wherever I was,
I'd come to you down the flights
of stairs and find you,
a king in your peacock chair
watching the miracle of the
soft rain settle in our backyard.
I'd climb into
the largesse of your lap
into the largeness of your being
of your arms
that swallowed me whole
moreso than a screened-in porch
or a yellow house with slanting roof
or a plantation in South America
with green banana trees
and coffeebean pods
swaying high on trees
just beyond my hands' reach.
Those arms
they were all
we ever needed
back then
as together
we slept
in silence
with the rain.
Feb. 16, 2005
Oh, no! The backporch screens need fixing.
"Simon! Where are you?"
"Simon?"
Oops, forgot he died in 2008.
I talked to him constantly for a year after his death. Now I have nothing left to remind me of the man.
Yes you do. You have things to remind you of Simon. You have memories, stories to share with others, poems-a good one like the one you posted here. People do not simply disappear from our lives. They are always part of the fabric of who we are and thus, go on, because even after we are gone, when we are part of the fabric of those we leave behind, it is all somehow woven together in a kind of karmic cloth. One doesn't need to believe in anything in particular to embrace this idea.
ReplyDeleteJust learned my husband's brother has a brain tumor in frontal lobe. Don't have much info yet--As though life were not enough of a challenge now as it was. Somehow the Great Puppeteer must not think so.
you're right about our memories, iris! simon actually died of a brain tumor, like my dad, which had metaz'd from the lung, tho art's brother has something different. how incredible to learn you have this growing inside you. will wait for more news from you and keep fingers crossed that the great puppeteer provides a way out othan meeting him in heaven.
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