Friday, July 13, 2012

Don't Cry for Me Dairy Hollow

Please don't go Dairy Hollow for I will miss our time together. Getting up at 8:30 and fixing coffee so we  could sit together on the loveseat in the writing room to look out on Dairy Hollow Street through the spruce and cedar and fir and magnolia and dogwood and sycamore. Please don't go for you will miss my goings to town and my comings in with treats to set out and look at like "made in America socks" and sterling silver earrings with Hungarian glass beads hanging down and the tie dyed skirt from Granny's. I will follow you back to here, right here where we first met and I will hug you longer than I ever have. As I pack my car with all we have done together--the joy of making poems, the blues of shredding the imperfect ones only to remember memorable lines from them, watching the sunset and then rushing in to write about it. We sat in the dark with the window open listening to the raucous sound of night creatures. I watch you in my rear view mirror as you move away behind me and disappear as I drive around the Spring Street bend just beyond Grotto Springs---

No comments:

Post a Comment