Saturday, February 28, 2015

If She Fell

A rare poem...

If She Fell


Walked up the old familiar hillside

Intermittent wipers still running

Wiping nothing away

Nothing looked the same

Noticed trees

Their roots running along the ground

 branches bent over

Bowing to those buried in the ground

Dried up petals falling from rotting stems

Placed a new one down

Watched the tall grass lean away from the wind

The tombstone wasn’t recognizable

Not because of age or weather

Just didn’t know the name

But their life felt like it was worth remembering

Wondered how they fell

How they felt

Wondered who followed

Wondered when they turned around in life

Was there a crowd or empty stands

Either way…still worth remembering

My shadow grew tall, longer than the trees

Still bent down, I fell to my knees

Arms raised up

Looking between the rain

Not to pray, not this time

Just waiting to catch heaven…

If she fell

Packed up what I had

 more than I came with

Felt revived, refreshed, renewed

I bowed like the trees to ones in the ground

Glanced up in the heavens

Another day maybe

She’d be here

Before I fall myself

Wanted one last chance to catch her…

If she fell

Began to be lulled

More tired than I thought

Sleep was seemingly soon

Was being lulled by the stories

The dash told

Finally I was listening

Resting my head upon her rhythm

Her rhyme

I started to learn

I wouldn’t be able to catch her

She would never be here

She’s where she was

Where she needed to be

Bowing to the buried

One last time

The sky was clearing

I made my decline

Intermittents still on

Rear window foggy

Or muddy…couldn’t tell

Just unclear

Windshield now clean

Can’t go back

Can only move forward

r.s. graybill

2/28/15


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