PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Today I opened the drawer,

Where I found her old military photo,

Her old diary,

Pictures of us together at someone else's wedding.



I remembered my mother saying,

"Keith died six months ago,

And it's Christmas, and I'm not crying tears over him."



Mom isn't crying anymore tears...what does that mean?

When I look at my old ex, and don't shed any tears,

Does that mean that I am over that person?

Do I just through that year away in insignificance

    Just because I can't shed anymore tears?



It is a year later,

Her child that should have been here,

Perished in her mind and imploded my dreams.

Her history and present,

Coil around eachother like two snakes,

So much to the point, you don't know which is which.



I won't say I have a new lover,

But a friend who rose out of the ash of a failed relationship.

We wear eachother well,

And it is her daughter, that has given birth to twins.



Two lives...two lives born in my presence,

And I am grandmother.

But I ache for my daughter...

The one conceived and expired in pages of emails,

One whose name whispered on the lips of many,

Only finds a hope of a nuance of actual physical being,

To find anything blowing of any recognition,

In this cold December wind.



Today, I opened the drawer,

Fearful of tears,

Thinking I'd be angry over the seperation,

Thinking I might want to hold on to a love,

But she didn't love me, and didn't know how.

My daughter was her ruse to keep me interested in her.

And as I look at her photographs,

Places we went, people we saw, it all just fades.

I don't talk to the people we saw together anymore,

I don't go to the places we used to go to,

Not because I don't want to, or that I can't,

I've just moved on.



But I had to know,

As my mother spoke of dating again,

How she could look at things and not cry.

I had no idea what "not crying" could mean...until



I opened the "Lynn Drawer",

Only to find aparitions and ghosts,

That didn't scare me anymore.

To see that the smiles on those photos,

Didn't really remind me of anything, not even of feelings:

   I once had,

   Or ones we shared.

She has changed so much,

I don't know who she is, or ever was.



Yes, I opened the "Lynn Drawer"

I didn't cry, I didn't really even feel.

I just saw the cold December wind,

Wisk the memories like leaves from my mind...

All those emotionally loaded things gone.

No more.



As I think about things,

My grandsons will build snowmen,

And I'll see their warm sunny faces on Christmas morn.

I'll smell the cold winter air,

And hear the crisp leaves crunch under their feet.

Their shrilling screams will travel--

As they run and leap into piles of leaves.

We'll have hot chocolate and cider...

And I'll not have one thought of the "Lynn Drawer".