time traveling and table distance

we would have time traveled
for the music
not the war
the year would be 1947
it would be a cool night in the city
just a bit more than warm
the stars would be so bountiful
the night sky would shimmer silver
across the white linen surface
our hands would be less than six inches apart
we’d be propped up on those tall, cast iron chairs
the ones that wobble when you’re trying to be serious
and you would be
too serious
I’d listen to your sad voice with deep ears
thinking of a way to make you laugh
to part those clouds blocking the billions of silver stars
from caressing your jacket sleeves
you’d want to care about me
about anyone
on this beautiful night
to give your wounded heart up for healing
but life circumstances would continue their suffocating embrace on you
though you’ve grown passed weary of them
ever the consummate gentleman, you’d not reveal this eternal distance
I’d compliment how you’re perfect, intelligent, handsome
and cheerfully suggest you attempt slaying the monster of malaise
easy – like one slices warm French bread
though I know how cut apart you are
in this hot silent moment, we’d readjust ourselves
then those silly chairs would wobble
and you’d reveal a quick, fragile smile
in such a way that could make someone fall in love with sorrow
and a silver star would land between our hands
now three inches apart
sun muraldetail from a mural painted about 10 years ago in a child’s room


48 thoughts on “time traveling and table distance

  1. My best moments: “deep ears thinking of a way to make you laugh”…”hot silent moments” and “someone fall in love with sorrow”. Wonderful poetry voice.


  2. [This may be a repeat, sorry; a “fat finger” mistake]

    “… in such a way that could make someone fall in love with sorrow” — God, I wish I’d written that line. The whole poem is beautiful, AM.


  3. cute illustration and great poetry, love the color yellow and your words remind me of a sad love story, reminds me of some of my exes.. Never mind mine, all i can say is , it’s beautiful.


  4. Your imagination is bountiful like the stories you create with such brilliant words. I stole the word bountiful from your work. Very nicely crafted young dear! Your music is always in tune and in balance with nature!


  5. ohhhhh AnnMarie……..I LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS! “we’d be propped up on those tall, cast iron chairs the ones that wobble when you’re trying to be serious” This line made me smile ever so softly this morning…..and 1947 — the year I was born — so I immediately felt akin to this poem. By the end, oh my….tears brimming. This really really touched me! For me, the poem calls for a photo of stars glistening….
    The detail from your child’s mural…..the one with the carousel?….is lovely! Cheerful, makes me smile just looking at it. What a lucky child to wake up to this every morn!!!!
    Well…..you’ve given me quite a morning as my three posted comments show today. I thank you!


    • Wow, Lillian –
      I thank you truly, for all your kindness and thoughtful comments.
      As I was writing this, I was seated far away in a terrific little café…ah, dreaming can be a dangerous thing…
      I should have been left back in 1st Grade – all I ever did was daydream…
      This mural is actually one in someone else’s home – I’ll post the carousel one day –
      am 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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