ANOTHER OFFICE EXPERIENCE, WITH A POEM

My previous post was a poem about an office experience. So is today's. The woman I am speaking to in the poem was a co-worker (well over 20 years ago) who'd become a good office friend during the weekly lunchbreak poetry workshop I led. The poem was my response to her developing cancer. Ultimately and blessedly, she was cured.

The pieces of my own past I reference in the poem were how I'd taken care of my best friend and roommate as she died of cancer. My co-worker knew of this, and I sensed her worry that her illness was, therefore, too hard for me to bear. I wanted her to know that I would bear whatever was necessary to support her. I am not sure she ever really understood what I was trying to say, either in this poem or to her directly on this subject. I do not say this critically or even with any regret. I am reminded of a saying I ran across recently that "People do not have our kind of love to give, only their own kind." (That's a paraphrase, but it is the gist of it.) And that went both ways between my co-worker and myself, of course.

THE PROMISE

At times your eyes are like
fragmented mirrors,
sharp pieces of my own past protrude.

And your words ring the loud bell
of memory until it cries from
the wilderness echoing your pain.

More terrible yet is my impotence,
against which I am wrecked
again and again,
a phoenix against her death.

I cannot save you,
cannot make your life over,
cannot rescue you from your struggle.

I can only promise I will not swerve
from these collisions:

they are my gift to you.

* * * *

Resource: Poetry Soul to Soul, this is the web site of a good friend of mine, Joneve McCormick, and has a wonderful collection of various poets' works. I'm delighted she's included some of mine.

‘til next time, keep dreaming,

Roswila
[aka: Patricia Kelly]
****If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”)****My other blog: ROSWILA’S TAROT GALLERY & JOURNAL.