I Remember You
It was my birthday
In the year of our lord 1991
We made the journey
You fly-fished in the San Juan
The light sparkled off the water
Without knowing
We were exploring a place
That would soon be my home
Land of Enchantment
With our walking sticks
We hiked and sang songs
Just a little off pitch
One never knows what is ahead
Still we continue
Even what we think of
As the impossible
You said, you could not be happy
Without the coast
We are never really stranded
The road ahead always looks promising
There is no machine
That can tell you what tomorrow will bring
After you left
The years passed
I yearned to talk with you
Ask what you think
After all these years
I miss you still
November 11, 2018
16 comments:
Such beautiful and poignant memories. A wonderful poem, Annell. I can see the sparkle on the water, and the arc of the fishing rod.
I wonder sometimes if we separate for the wrong reasons... after all we should be able to feel happy wherever we are (even away from the waves)
Thanks Sherry.
Thanks for your comment Brudberg. Probably, we do....even away from the waves. No, I don't think we can feel happy anywhere....it is said of Taos, NM, you have to be excepted by Taos Mountain, or else you will leave here screaming!!! There are some mysteries we have no answers for.
To have had the Land of Enchantment is wonderful, and to keep going is possible because it dwells in memory. And then the unknown of the destination, helps me onward. Anything could happen.
I felt your words resonate with me.....such lovely memories!
This is beautifully drawn. I was - am - really affected by the close. This piece resonates with such lovely truth.
This is so beautiful, raw and eloquent. I could feel every word. 💞
Nostalgic, filled with love for what once was and the missing!
So much nostalgia for what was and could have been.
such a lovely, poignant poem!
longing! longing makes us live better. because the one not around would have wanted us to.
Thank you for the comment, Susan.
Thanks for your comment, Wendy.
Thanks for your comment, Mary.
Thank you Thotpurge.
Sweet nostalgia. I like "we're never really stranded" and the internal rhyme that I hear.
Post a Comment