Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Love Looks Like

Hand printed pages
back-lit
by the sunset I missed
stitching
fossils and fur
and driving -
always driving
to get where you're going.

For The Tuesday Platform at Real Toads

15 comments:

Sylvia K said...

Ah, so true!!!

Björn Rudberg said...

Sometimes we just have to follow the footsteps in the sand... interpreting.

Kerry O'Connor said...

The last line really says it all for me.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

"always driving to get where you're going"......hits home, Mama Zen.

my heart's love songs said...

life moves so fast!

Happy Spring, MZ!

Fireblossom said...

"to get where you're going"...not "to get where I'm going". Thinkin about that.

Susan said...

That's a whole lot of giving going on--like some of my favorite Biblical characters.

blueoran said...

Sometimes I think all poetry is about love -- a heart ever making and breaking --: A hand written page that blocks the sunset we missed trying to find love where sunsets should be. Love the screen of meaning that we need but does not exist. Loved this.

Marian said...

aw.

Sioux said...

The "driving--always driving" line got to me.

hedgewitch said...

Such a complete piece--I love the idea of stitching fossils and fur, something almost damned about that, as well as the endless drive, and the transparent scrawl of love? of something better? in the light of a sunset missed.

grapeling said...

what did we do before driving? ~

Outlawyer said...

I am so lucky as to have avoided driving for many years--living in NYC--and now I have essentially two drives a week--one down to the train (pretty long one) and one back (again long)--but then it is my husband driving and I really try not to drive at all on any other days --my husband makes fun of me--and it is inconvenient for sure--and may have to change, as I can't always make other people go to town to shop! But I really have a problem with sitting in car. That said-- I don't think this poem is in fact just about the car driving--which is enough--but about the always being stuck in the inter stices of places--missing what's there in the getting to the next--and love, which has so much service attached to it, can certainly feel that way in our modern life. And yet it's still love--for sure--thought-provoking piece, MZ--you always manage to put so much in a brief space. k.

Grandmother (Mary) said...

Scrambling, driving, missing the sunset in the process sounds like a good wake- up call.

Shawna said...

Then hand printed pages could also be handprinted pages, meaning saved pages with a child's precious handprints from tender ages. Stitching fossils and fur makes me think of trying to raise the dead, so I'm envisioning this being about trying to bring back a child who has died, trying to reunite with her somewhere over the horizon --- with her ghost, with her soul, with her bones even. This reminds me of the movie Pet Sematary.