But if they did,
And asked how I was,
What would I say?
This morning I saw the pileated
destroying that old tree.
This afternoon I heard a loon’s lonely call
across the silver gray river.
Tonight I will spend an hour flipping through channels
Before I find something I watched before
And will watch again.
Tomorrow…
Tomorrow I have nothing on the list
Of things I used to do.
They never call
But if they did
What would I say?
(Yes, this is a sad little poem, but it kept forming and reforming and so to get it out of my head I had to write it down.)
It's all the expectations that help to make it sad. holiday expectations are the worst.
ReplyDeleteThis is not right. You deserve more.
ReplyDeleteHattie, this is fictional and not representative of my holiday happenings. Just a mood piece.
ReplyDeleteA mood piece, and a very good one!
ReplyDeletePoetry, one of your many gifts. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteIt may be a bit pensive, but I'm sure millions of people can relate to it.
ReplyDeleteWe are glad you did. :)
ReplyDeletei relate
ReplyDeleteHmmm, a holiday piece. 'A Wonderful Life' it ain't. But a mood piece, yeah, good one. And a couple of your comment's reaffirmed this, eh? I can't identify with it, but it reads like Raymond Carver somewhat. Hope that's a compliment.
ReplyDeleteI did some fiction, short pieces, they are on one of my blogs.
I like this, Tabor. No need for explanations.
ReplyDeleteCall them. From experience, I would bet they are waiting for you to make contact. They know you are the stronger, and are probably waiting for you to make the first step and to make the plans. After all, you were always the strongest.......
ReplyDeleteOk, glad to know it's not your reality. It's too sad for that to be the case.
ReplyDeleteYes, I know how that feels.
ReplyDelete“If they asked how I am what would I say?” That’s the worst part of it.
Sweetie's father (not the one who raised him) used to call every day and recount the same things he'd been doing over and over. Sweetie listened, knowing it made his father happy.
ReplyDeleteVery nice poem, T. It is easy enough to follow, but there could be some latitude for interpretation of the 'they'. Or at least, I think so. :)
ReplyDeleteI really like this. On rereading it is even better.
ReplyDeleteHow would I eat those? Very carefully. :)
they don't call? pick up the phone. quit waiting for them to make the first move. I know this is just a poem and not biographical.
ReplyDeleteI came over from Jerry's blog to have a look around. I love your poem. Sad yes but i can relate to it all too well.
ReplyDeleteOne Day at a Time has been included in our A Sunday Drive for this week. Be assured that we hope this helps to point even more new visitors in your direction.
ReplyDeletehttp://asthecrackerheadcrumbles.blogspot.com/2015/12/a-sunday-drive_20.html
Have a great Holiday!
ReplyDeleteAt least the Loons are still there to call...
I'm tired of my bad news, so not sharing that much!