Wednesday, May 09, 2007

May 9th

The day is gone - another one.
I am trying to remember
a birthday.
The one when I led you by the hand
through a jungle of weeds
and you clung to me,
your face a question.
All's well, I said,
- and held you close.
But all the time I was scared for you.
I lay awake
without reason
every fast flowing river,
every high tree.

It took less in the end
- and more.

All's well, I say now,
everything's fine.
In case you hear.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

This is a useless poem

Wed May 09, 09:21:00 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Yes, I know - but I don't care.

Wed May 09, 09:22:00 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

why did you write it then?

Wed May 09, 09:23:00 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Because I wanted to mark the day.

Wed May 09, 09:24:00 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Why are we talking here?

Wed May 09, 09:25:00 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Because it's quiet and no one can hear.

Wed May 09, 09:25:00 pm  
Blogger Lee said...

I hear. And for each of us who hears, so does he.

Thu May 10, 07:20:00 am  
Blogger Jeremy said...

Hear here.

Fri May 11, 10:31:00 am  
Blogger Unknown said...


Fri May 11, 08:58:00 pm  
Blogger Kay Cooke said...

I know ... thinking of you. (It's the day after ABM's and my wedding anniversary.) And it's a beautiful poem. The pain of the missing and the gap left, never leaves us does it?

Sat May 12, 02:32:00 am  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

A beautiful poem and tribute, Clare. Your words will be remembered by many, perhaps more than you know.

Sat May 12, 03:34:00 am  

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