you’re leaving again
I’m standing in the dusty road
of a seventy’s film, watching your
el camino spray gravel at my chucks
your cigarette flicked out the window,
your wedding ring gone. again.
not that I miss you.
but i wonder why it was so much easier
losing fathers than a mother
The Guess Who blares out your window
your eyes never look up from the road
because you’re angry
only and always angry
and I just happen to be there, every time
I walk the opposite direction in a cast of
browns and yellows
a 7/11 the only thing in sight
CCR plays as if it were a film
As long as I can see the light….
gone….gone…gone…
I tell myself to put my head up,
to raise myself
again
and I am my own mother
loving the girl I am
the woman I’ve tried to become
dreaming my dead father loves me
up in the sky in his plaid shirt
and dirty bell bottoms.
I walk til the end of the scene,
telling myself some people
aren’t worth keeping
Right on.
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I love this poem and the sounds, feelings and images it conjures. I often write my way through therapy and even have a poem called “The Cheap Therapy Poem.” I also, like you, write to discover what I’m thinking. Writting oetry is like taking my pschyic blood pressure.
I’m happy to have found your blog!
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I knw exactly what you mean
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very interesting in what’s said, and what isn’t, Amy
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Thanks very much, Dean
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I just wrote you a glowing comment about this poem and then my internet lost the connection….figures!
Anyway, this is a very moving piece for me. I can hear CCR & see the 7/11. I was born in the 70’s, yet strangely enough, those memories are more vivid for me than even the 90’s and 00’s…plus I love 70’s movies (especially horror). 🙂 On every level, you just NAILED this write…honestly, one of the most powerful poems I’ve read! Tough emotionally, but this girl is tougher than anything life throws at her, and I have crazy admiration for her!
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I’m there in this moment, Amy. You’ve written it so clearly I can taste the dust on my tongue. Beautifully done
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