Wednesday, March 31

Some men should talk

Those years between my birth and the first time I met Frank were years of silence. Mother had no answers for me, at least she kept them a secret and still does but I did receive one letter and I still have that with me. It was short, one page filled with trivial sentences about life and making choices. I was a child, I didn't understand. Still don't. But we don't talk about the silence, that would complicate the co existense that we both seem to enjoy. He makes me dinner sometimes, takes me out for walks and comes home with dresses in sizes to big but I still wear them, I like the feeling of fabric falling of my body as I move.

I used to keep that letter under my pillow for several years and then moved it to my wallet, folded a hundred times. I read those tired words ten times a day, trying to picture him, trying to get to know him. It felt like chasing a shadow, trying to hold on to thin air, dancing with wolfs. One letter in six years. Who says I'm demanding? He could get away with anything. I still put him on a pedistal. The man with black tshirts and wayfarers, he stole my heart as a kid.

7 comments:

1anvil4u said...

He has no hold, for what he can not posess. If only one letter, with no return address. Clothes too big for the heart inside, I think not a deeper truth belies. If under that pillow was kept a dream, that letter of choices does only scream. Good that you remove it from there, your heart need not another tear. For that pillow is for your head to rest, To dream of things you KNOW best. Belle in Arms that could hold a truth so real,a letter in time with no wax seal. That letter in folds from wearing & tearing, does you no justice, kindness or careing. Return to me your answer and bareing, It is that truth you should be sharing.

Caplyst said...

very good poem 1anvil4u.

I have a good friend, her father was never around. She knew nothing about him, raised by her mother. She went onto college, grad school and then law school. She is successful and independent. Spring of 08, she went on a quest to find her father. Using up favors with friends she found him in Seattle, WA. The story doesn't have a happy ending. I talk to her know and she is a changed woman, for the better I don't know, I don't think so. Her quest revealed some things that were probably best left burried. I know the want and desire to fill in the blanks is there, to ask Why? But you have to ask at what price?

Sometimes the an old letter and the image of those wayfayers will suffice.

Susan said...

I love your writing so much... and that photo is beautiful.
take care, xoxo

s + b said...

you're wonderful.

Sophia said...

We put on pedestals sometimes those we shouldn't.

xo, Sophia

Heather Taylor said...

Oh darling this is beautiful and so sad. I love how you describe it as chasing a shadow.

Yofany said...

thank you! i already link you too! :D