Back to you

What used to matter

Hangs damp in cold room

Thin at neck, gravity urging shape

To stretch uneven and gnarled by neglect.

What used to matter

Is a stain that isn’t removed by washing, even on high

A partial magnet on fridge, without part that gave meaning

Just an outline, take a guess; bird or city, resort or wise crack

We fill in what nolonger makes sense, with the dried impatience of ninety year olds

Unable to return volley.

What used to matter

Lies between us at night, tossing and turning

If we were milk, we’d spoil before first light

But you were always practical, rinsing bottles the night before

If you’d been a typewriter you’d have made a perfect sound at the end of each sentence

ding

You take out the old and bring in the new

I’m reminded of lamps, one shiny, one tarnished

And your face, free of regret, is smooth as avocado forest

But if I tell you, we’ll go round and round, quips about green skin

And eventually sing Kermit’s song; It’s not easy being green

I know this before you’ve even moved, to rid us of silence

That has grown like icicles, betwixt our garden

So it is I, who unlatches back door and places

What used to matter

Out for recycling.

Early morning hands will whisk away

All those spoilt emotions

And sun will dapple our lawn with fresh light

I figure, it’s the start

Of doing things differently

And I climb the stairs

Back to you

17 thoughts on “Back to you

  1. I like the somewhat melancholy acceptance of matters that you have captured here. Better the devil you know? Perhaps. Trouble is no-one ever knows for sure. Well crafted writing.

  2. The interchanging here from light-hearted to sad to “this just is what it is and I’m gonna be content” is remarkable throughout the poem. My favorite lines:

    “What used to matter

    Lies between us at night, tossing and turning

    If we were milk, we’d spoil before first light

    But you were always practical, rinsing bottles the night before

    If you’d been a typewriter you’d have made a perfect sound at the end of each sentence

    ding”

    Splendid. Peace, Candice.

  3. What a beautiful piece expressing lesbian love. I am so happy for you.
    Good for you Candice.
    Cheers.

  4. Masterful the way you weave narrative with metaphor…and I love the ending – “… I climb the stairs back to you.” And hopefully to a new beginning. Beautiful poem, Candice. 💕

  5. To me this speaks of loss and grief… and the echoes of shared history resounding in every corner.
    I’m taking this one to accompany my work day. I’ll have to reread it again tonight.

  6. This felt like you were slowly putting a heavy comforter over me as I lay on the couch where I had fallen asleep in a cold room…. 🙂

    You are always a comfort dear sis… xx love

Comments are closed.