I knew a leaf
Once a magnificent leaf
I watched him bud
And yawn and shiver
On my favorite tree
He whistled in spring
And sunned in summer
He took great pride
In keeping raindrops off
Of hiding children beneath
But then Autumn came
And he grew tired
He lost his looks
And his boyish verve
One day while walking
I heard him ask
What’s happening to me
I looked up saying
It’s time to go
But you’ll be back
In the hearts of
Those who remember you
It’s with a heavy
Heart that I admit
That I am scared
Breakups are never easy
Yet here we are
Once had now gone
I will miss you
And what you promised
I did love you
But then you cheated
With the one that
You promised to avoid
You promised me that
Never shall we mingle
And yet you did
I should’ve expected it
Seduction is always sweet
Until the apple bitters
And it always does
Sitting here today
I’m present to
Lost and found
Something lost can
Be found again
But by then
It’s too late
Either you’ve discovered
A replacement or
You’ve learned to
Do without it
Keep important things
Close to you
Because once they’re
Gone they are
Gone for good
When someone that
You love has
A loved one
That is ill
That sickness belongs
To you too
It shows up
As tearful heartache
And gleefully glorious
Memories about so
Long ago he
Was just as
Caring to me
Even though he
Is your father
Steven I simply
Borrowed him then
I wrote this long-handed while sitting in “The Olde Crapper,”
the oldest pub in Stow-on-the-Wold.
Typed, it remains identical except for the
“dopplestick” Altbier’s splay of creamy foam
due to the barmaid’s negligence and naiveté
of noteworthy Alt-style ales and their
distinctive yet dreadful character:
the infamously delicate and fragile froth
which collapses quicker than a slit souffle!
10 May, 2014
Dear (You):
Not writing to you doesn’t imply not thinking of you or your gracious patience since 3 February, 2014. That was the date of my last post which required wringing the writer’s dishcloth to honor the writer’s vow: To write no matter.”
Marcea, an insightful, honest, and very good friend (38 years) proposed “If writing is a catharsis, then I strongly suggest shifting your focus to gain perspective. If you force posts they’ll be “a whole lotta negativity” which no one wants to read.” And she was right. I spent months trying to frame what I went through, but everything devolved into a pity party or my selfishness or that I’m an unforgiving asshole. Then my partner mentioned an interview between Katie Couric and Hillary Clinton about forgiveness which ignited an epiphany underscoring families and catastrophic illnesses:
Many thanks to my partner (of 30 years) who lifted the burden of impossible tasks (cleaning out his house, and negotiating with lenders); my best friend Scott who travelled with me and discussed diagnoses and added a degree of levity.
And especially to Marcea who gambled friendship for honesty.
I could not have navigated the maze alone, and I am truly blessed by being their partner and friend.
P,S, I have several drafts for new posts “in the oven.” Keep an eye out for them.
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 