Where the sunsets shimmered
amber on your shoulders
near the wide open window
that looks out at the cypress trees,
I sit at our table, apple in one palm
paring knife in the other, and begin
slicing and coring the last
of the last I brought home to you.
The fat robin returns, sunning
herself in our tree. She takes
a good look at or
through me. Noticing how
she watches my hands, I realize,
never in all these years
have I cored even one apple
that wasn’t for you.
See the other poem at ardorlitmag.com
1. Tell about loss or grief, or some other strong emotion. Use a symbol from everyday life, respond to it, manipulate it in some familiar or unusual way to signify something dramatic or wrenching. Be careful not to be too over the top, or too on the nose.
2. Describe something occurring, first from your perspective, then from the perspective of some creature in nature, or even from the point of view of a road, a barn, or a highrise window looking at the porch or breezeway or boulder where you stand.
3. Tell a story visually and in a cinematographic way. Recall a movie, a Western, for example, or one of Hitchcock's, where the perspective or angle of the camera changes significantly and meaningfully. Write like that, zooming in towards the details, beads of sweat on a forehead so tense it might crack or condensation on a broken windowpane, moving out to a wide angle shot of a barren field. Now the camera is high, now it's on the ground, now it's skewed at an angle. It goes from darkness into light, and from the light into the shadows. Perspective, when you tell a story, is significant and has energy. Use that.
For your information: This poem, First Core, takes place during the first days after my life-partner died, in 2005. Patricia was the love of my life. The poem is about beginning the difficult process of learning to come home to no one but me while grieving. It's also about the isolation of coming out, for the most part, alone. Happily, in 2007, I met a new love of my life--How can that even be possible? I wondered then. Lisa and I have been together since, traveling, creating, working and living, with the world and my perspective opening up significantly and profoundly.