Saturday, August 25, 2012

Operator

Operator

Dusk is my favorite time of day
I put on music, whatever my mood
pour a glass of rose wine, find a recipe
hunt for the essentials in refrigerator
spice closet, the sage is empty
I remember  she took her pencils
left no trace of her whereabouts 

I try to find her, there is an internet link
we know each other forty-eight years
we once had a bond, we once gave
to each other, then she moved on 
it hurts me I am no longer welcome
in her sphere, though once I was 
her lifeline with nothing to be forgiven

Written for  The Sunday Whirl #71 with these words:





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20 comments:

  1. MaryAugust 26, 2012 at 5:04 AM

    Wow, this is quite a tale, Willow. It is hard to lose a friend, a person to whom one was once SO close. Love the details, such as the empty sage, you put in this poem!(Wonderful use of the wordle words.)

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  2. nanAugust 26, 2012 at 6:32 AM

    So sad... for this narrator to think of all those years with "nothing to be forgiven" -- all that, and now this. Nicely done!

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  3. annell4August 26, 2012 at 6:50 AM

    And so life goes, in and out, close than far...it make for the little fertile space of sorrow, tucked into the back of our bag.

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  4. DaydreamertooAugust 26, 2012 at 7:23 AM

    Strange how sometimes people simply seem to outgrow others and it hurts not knowing...why. This has to hurt so much after all the years of having been close friends. I feel the pain in it but, there is no blame in your pen, just hurting.
    Very touching.

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  5. brenda wAugust 26, 2012 at 7:50 AM

    I like the sage as a mundane trigger into such depth of feeling. Well done, Willow!

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  6. joanneAugust 26, 2012 at 9:50 AM

    I had a friend whom I thought was a good one....turned out not so much.....I tried to explain why I no longer wanted to be 'besties' with her anymore, but she wouldn't look into the mirror I held up. Yes, I outgrew her, and I know she is hurt....

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    Replies
    1. WillowAugust 26, 2012 at 8:22 PM

      I did think I was a good friend, but I see from your poem how differences might intrude, an eye opening poem.

      Delete
  7. AnonymousAugust 26, 2012 at 1:04 PM

    I like how you tie the mundane task of making dinner to the loss of a friend -- just the way your mind does wander. I like this, identified with it even.

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  8. Laurie KolpAugust 26, 2012 at 6:58 PM

    This is sad, but beautiful.

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  9. WillowAugust 26, 2012 at 8:12 PM

    Thank you, Brenda

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  10. WillowAugust 26, 2012 at 8:15 PM

    Thank you, Mary

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  11. Tumblewords:August 26, 2012 at 8:50 PM

    Poignant piece - well wordled!

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  12. Rinkly RimesAugust 26, 2012 at 11:02 PM

    Dusk is certainly a time for memories.

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  13. ElizabethAugust 27, 2012 at 5:26 AM

    I had a friend who simply stopped being a friend one day. No explanation. It hurt. She passed away about a year ago and I was devastated, none the less. Your poem is personal and universal, gently written with a lot of wisdom. Thank you,

    Elizabeth
    http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/

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  14. Magical Mystical TeacherAugust 27, 2012 at 4:02 PM

    When the sage is empty, there is no one to consult...

    My Half-Whirl

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  15. Carol Steel August 27, 2012 at 5:33 PM

    Poignant and real. Speaks about loss and longing, without whining, simple recognition of the parting. Wonderful.

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  16. AnonymousAugust 28, 2012 at 8:24 AM

    heartbreakking, how people seem to move on so easily without us.

    i like your dusk ritual - dusk is my favorite time of day.

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  17. WillowAugust 31, 2012 at 7:53 PM

    Thank you, All. I think it is natural, we outgrow all sorts of things...hopefully we grow better.

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