Keeping On

I wouldn't have called it, but I haven't cried today. Not that I've been perfectly cheerful by any means, but I haven't cried either. My attitude when faced with tragedy since my father died has usually been, "it could be worse." It could in this case, as well. Maybe that's what is keeping me together just now. I don't know. I just know that giving my boy extra snuggles all day isn't hurting either of us.

Thanks to Alicia for sharing her creativity here. Please, join her! Or at least point me in the direction of a favorite free verse poem. Here is another of my favorites, by Pablo Neruda, and translated from the Spanish by W.S. Merwin.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example, 'The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.'

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.

Haiku News

OK, what the hell?

Senate passes Amtrak bill

that lets folks pack heat??

Jerkwad of the day:

white man beats up black woman

in front of her kid.

Now they're finding bones

in Garrido's backyard; they

may be missing girls'.