Still so changed

lungsThought I saw you today

resting on the cream tile beside our silver fridge

a sign of my eyes seeing ghosts or fading out?

The doctor said; Watch for ink marks and sudden black spots

just like your coat, as you leaned in to clean eternal

not you, this time, or ever more

only my shoes and socks, black and white as

your fur

recalling when we traveled, back when we could

before lock-downs, before freedom was something nobody

took for granted

how in the arroyo of the desert we climbed

cactus flowers and box turtles, lazy sunbathing snakes

finding purchase of indigo rock

how my spirit felt released in that stark landscape

greater than any city, eclipsing us

as you searched for things to kill and torture

though you possessed a kind heart

a little metaphorical

a little incidental?

Our bid for escape, as now we are closed and shut up

you lying beneath red earth, turning to desert

I am still above ground

wondering at times, for what?

Another road trip? None would be you

nor would freedom taste quite as sweet

though I expect when released

people will emerge

dazed and half willing

shaking off their forgotten selves

staring about for stars and clothes

meaning and fireworks

just the same

as it ever was

and still so changed

and still so very


39 thoughts on “Still so changed

  1. Time goes but one way
    “We’re captive on the carousel of time
    We can’t return we can only look behind
    From where we came
    And go round and round and round
    In the circle game” — Joni Mitchell – The Circle Game
    Emerging from seclusion
    A new world will be seen
    Familiar and so strange
    Discovering things lost to be grieved
    And new patterns to explore and learn

  2. Beautiful work, Candice!🌟
    I find the urge to comment on your poems being countered, by a sense,
    that my words feel too banal, to be worthy
    of being placed near them.🌝

  3. This virus has taken many. And still, the pain it brings to families can bleed these sort of emotions into a poem, as this.

    I am sorry for your loss. Continue to write the pain into the page. ❤

  4. Oh, do! It has seen me through some rough patches for many (like, more than 50?) years. I first heard it in a cover by Buffy Sainte Marie.

  5. A Beautiful lament for this lost love, Sister. 💔 no doubt, wherever souls perch beyond this veil, he longs to be with you as well. ❤

  6. “stars and clothes / meaning and fireworks”
    The closest thing to meaning I’ve ever had in my life was in the breath and gaze and purr and instinct of a quadruped who accompanied me for too short a while.

  7. My pleasure Candice, although our world seems surreal at the moment… and I’m not a ease with the new ‘normal’… xx

  8. Buffy has been one of the great teachers of my life, as well as the subject of a serious teenage fan crush. Alas, I’ve never found an opportunity to hear her live.

  9. Yes exactly. I am working on an anthology of these times right now and it’s just a weird world where many bad things are happening but also some really good ones. As long as we stay open we will survive this.

  10. So good that you are doing that. I missed the start of it, and only have my journal entries. I am sure you see a lot, and will share your truth with a rare clarity of heart …

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