The Muse

(An International Journal of Poetry)

Volume-1                                         †††† december-2011                                                    Number-2

 

 

 

 


One Day in August

†††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††† by Suzanne Nielsen

 

Once it settles in your bones you fight to keep it from becoming a reality

by reminiscing on easier times, or sneak back to those dangerous leaps

that cost you four of your seven rich lives so you refuse to lie still

and succumb to laboured breathing.

 

A gentle touch

a familiar thump of rubber soled shoes

the scent of a gardenerís hands

familiar hands that comforted you through all nine lives.

 

Then it happens

you remember as though it was yesterday

when those rubber soled shoes faded into their seventh life

all the surrounding decay

spiritually

emotionally

and physically

but you watched and waited and watched some more

until the rubber soles united with the spirit of the gardener who,

through so many lives, remained alive through the drought,

the endless digging for a place to plant the soul and you pass

quietly knowing those hands have many gardens to till.

 

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