by Carolin Messier
Six bags of sawdust made me cry
the loss of your inventiveness and curiosity
felt in waves, not ripples on the pond
by many more than me, the cat and street.
Who else will wonder, about how snowflakes look on Mars,
Or whether ice will warm a woman’s belly with desire
Or be fascinated by the earth’s spun hair of raven glass?
Docked boats for fishing made my smile
the memory of a midnight sail
full moonlit stillness, brought first concern
then magic, as we headed home.
Who else will recite Prufrock, with tomato-garlic sandwiches
Or collect eleven camping stoves, just in case,
Or fly with manta rays at night because he couldn’t swim?
A lost pink hair band made me laugh
the image that you drew in words of girls gone wild,
before unnoticed, now I see them everywhere
on sidewalks, streets and parking lots.
Who else will pet me as a cat, for hours
Or read a pile of books on pirates, psychopaths and love,
Or question, ask and listen to learn and understand another’s mind?
Vows for our wedding made me love
to read your heart in simple lines unsaid
of recognition at the start and courage in the end;
our three years shared were more than many lives.