Sunday, October 23, 2011

Between

Lee Friedlander, from America by Car

Between

Do you remember when
we would swing as high
as high as gangly legs
could propel?
Then we’d jump jump jump
landing in soft grass
and the comfort
of a summer day.
I lost my gumball machine ring
in that grass.
We decided that the devil
had reached up his hand
and
snatched
it.
That was when I started
the march toward
that far horizon.
I’m not there yet
here between the
lost ring
and the end of things,
glad and grateful
that the answer to the question
(are we there yet?)
is no,
not yet.

This is a Magpie Tale. And it’s letter B for my ABCs of Gratitude series. 




19 comments:

  1. Lovely poem. I keep telling our grown son not to be frustrated with where he is in life; just figure out the path you need to be on. The journey is the thing....

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  2. 'here between the
    lost ring
    and the end of things,'

    Beautiful. And the rest too.

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  3. B could also stand for bewitching, for that is how you weave your words. By the way, perhaps Gollum got the ring.

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  4. Eternal question - are we nearly there yet...

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  5. "landing in soft grass and the comfort of a summer day"...wonderful image of childhood. Great poem.

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  6. smiles. nah i think you have a little time left...nice textures to this...gotta watch that devil reaching up...

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  7. I used to dream a lot in the car- nice where you went with youth-
    and now thank heaven, we are still on the trail...Thanks.

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  8. Sometimes I think it's closer than it appears...:) Wonderful piece!

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  9. Are we there yet.. Someone did have to come up with that! Can't believe it wasn't me ... I have six kids... :)

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  10. I adored swinging...but I wasn't a jumper...

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  11. I am not there yet either..there are more dreams, more hopes, more places...I enjoyed your take on the photo...great job!!

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  12. this was a lovely poem, full of fun
    and wisdom
    I still ask that question

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  13. This is sweetly subtly powerful - I love the moment you capture that seems almost frozen between. Well done!

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  14. i appreciate the sensation of small losses and how they accumulate and gather a presence much greater than themselves and yet . . . steven

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  15. The prompt took you in an interesting direction...

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Thanks for stopping by - I'd love to hear what you have to say!