Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Turn




Early on you taught me,
     remember.
Your hand, butter biscuit warm
reached out to
feel my shadow
until my face turned to you,
     looking,
tasting your sweet breath.

When we talk,
look to me,
          not there
     - here.

I do,
peering in -
teetering with toes to the edge of
a deep canyon where stars
hide until you bid them
rise.

Green and brown stares lock,
mixing in water colors of
unspoken meaning,
perfections of clarity.

Lips moved,
glasses clinked,
eyes spoke.

     Worlds turn,
     leaves turn,
     so do pages in a family album.

Autumn came,
life left your eyes,
bits of me were lost in
pixel reduction,
hovering between opaque
and transparent.

Walls blur,
furniture mixes,
I am solvent, blended
into my surroundings.

Relative to you, I
can't move from your six,
every contact a mere deflection,
     glancing.

Your face is a reflection in
the windows you stare out of,
or a monitor screen,
a faint glow from
a smart phone
buried in distraction.

Conversation is lean,
the functional passes in
efficient phrasing about
     pickup times,
     appointments,
     and to-do lists

while

I silently ask every part
of you
not your face

to
turn.


©Eusebeia Philos 2013



Photo credit: Photo Pin



19 comments:

  1. this is really moving... reminded me of my son..and ADS child and when i talked to him i always made him look at me...eye to eye to make sure he was nowhere else... loved the butter biscuit warm hands reaching out to feel your shadow...really..really felt..

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Claudia. It is important to show others that we're really here, tuned in to each other.

      Delete
  2. This was amazingly powerful. I loved the progression and the way the "seasons" of this relationship changed throughout the poem. Great work!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Keith. Appreciate the positive comments.

      Delete
    2. You're quite welcome and I look forward to your next post.

      Delete
  3. where stars
    hide until you bid them
    rise....ah what power she had eh...the losing of her...and seeing her in the reflections....and def nice use of the seasons in this ....evocative...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hey, Brian. Cool...glad you caught some of that.

      Delete
  4. Sad as they leave us -- fast or slow, I'm not sure which departure hurts worse.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I get it, Sabio. No good either way.

      Delete
    2. Yeah, your poem was a good capture.
      Liked the drawing. But what does "Photo credit Photo Pin" mean? (no link, btw)

      Delete
    3. Photo Pin is a source for free photos for bloggers. Their copy and paste link for that photo obviously wasn't working. Added my own link to the site. Done. Thanks.

      Delete
  5. This is heartbreaking and so beautiful. I was swept away by its perfection, really.

    ReplyDelete
  6. It definitely is a sad thing when someone is still 'here' in body, but their mind and their eyes no longer focus...a powerful write here!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Right, Mary. Presence begins to fade by lack of attention.

      Delete
  7. So many great turns of phrase:
    I am solvent, blended into my surroundings.
    the butter biscuit warm hand
    And the poignancy of the unspoken in that simple 'Autumn came,
    life left your eyes,
    bits of me were lost in
    pixel reduction'.
    Very moving.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Thank you for the visit and comments, M. Sofia.

      Delete
  8. Okay. My favorite line from poetry this week "butter biscuit warm". So right on.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You made my day. Thanks for that appreciation, Alice.

      Delete