mayday

Skilful - I had already written the word skilful and meant it - when I looked again at the very last line. And I noticed that it jarred - don't know why. Is it 'must' (at least over here snow is not the norm in winter any longer) or the simply that the verb is pushed to the end of the line? I do not know. But I know this: There is this memory of bright autumn leaves, the sight of the squirrel and other little creatures, then the background of browns, different hues in fading light, the light sounds of small animals moving and one of us, too, watching before winter is coming. And man - you - there combining random impressions to a picture that makes sense - your environment, your views of nature (so typically human), your trying to spot what you expect - and finally - something remote from your personal experience, something different and I sense some loss there - as if you yourself were gone from that part. I have looked again at the last lines: It is the creatures that must roam and prepare, not us. Winter is coming anyway, for them. we are warm and safe. I keep adding my own thoughts. You are simply too evocative in your poems. I love how the rhyme weaves its way through the stanzas.

what it means to me? I see a dance of stars and moons before me - revolving around each other, getting closer - moving away from each other like lovers, like people we meet in life I see attraction and feelings at work which get in the way (I am not sure I am saying this right) which draw us apart and hurt us And I do know that knowing about one another does not always help, sometimes it is more of a curse than a blessing.

only by not coming together can we see each other's light and recognize our existence - I am not sure if your wonderful lines are about love or life or both - but thank you

thank you for writing about healing which sounds so real, so convincing - the only problem I have with this chapter that reading it is over soooo soon.

there was a time when such events were a "prerogative" of America, alas, no more, but even though they occur also this side of the ocean, they are the exception here, whereas they seem to be the rule in the US - I have given up divining the reasons and factors at work, it seems rather fruitless. After Sandy Hook and its hollow aftermath, it seems there is nothing that can be done to prevent the like "events". Once you accept children being sacrificed to a myth, anything goes...

nor error, Parker. Only laments at how terribly right you are

"You built your own hell, brick by stinking brick" I do not know why this line stands out to me. While you are here in a world of friends, feelings, thoughts, hopes, life and love - he has shut himself out of that, has raised walls around him to shut himself in, in a world of loneliness, bitter, without happiness. Be happy to be outside. It seems he won't share the smallest possible space, not even mutual understanding. So - from this very, very far away - I am sure he won't regret what you could have been to him, only perhaps what he wanted you to be. You have given that man a last chance at being your father. Peace be with you. I feel deeply honoured to read your goodbye. And moved.

I agree with the others, good start. Great description of a desolate home (and relationship?) Bill left and found again on his return. So much in ruin apparently. But to assume the worst about Jeff? Maybe he just considered cheating on Bill and has not yet done it?

I like the open threads here, lots of questions and various ways this could get great or all wrong...

being back with friends is always good, especially as I had lost hope of ever encountering them again (apart from that verrry short spell in PP)

I am so glad, our two lovers are back! And thank you for not ending the story yet.... I am sure you have much more to tell... funny and sweet this chapter

Intriguing beginning. So much to develop here.

powerful - linger -- love the single word in the centre which seems to hold the two extremes at both ends together. Thanks for this

You did! Thank you for that.

I did indeed, on reading it a third time...

So cute! But I cannot imagine Joey in court... stereotypes, I know...

Beautiful. Moving. May your love give the strength you need. All my best wishes...

Thank you, Tim. A ray of hope promised to whoever is in very dark place right now. Beautiful resurrection of life. And the cat in the window opposite mine is still wallowing in the sun enjoying its warmth as if nothing else matters...

love it - it is getting better and better

you make me blush, my friend, your words called forth mine but I did not see it - your few changes have made me listen to my own words in a different way - thank you for such encouragement - totally unlooked for, too - your poem has become a bag of seeds

don't be sorry. I do feel for you - so far away that I cannot even offer support or my shoulder - your hurt is one my thoughts cannot even imagine. Feelings diminish vast distances to nothing, when put into your words - the Atlantic wanes into a small stream that might be crossed in one leap. Your last sentence has left me reeling. I do know how much silence can hurt us - silence which drives our loneliness home, which leaves us with only ourselves - nothing between me and the void that life is - can be - I wish I had your way with words, dear friend...

this hurts

So entertaining. A joy to read. And so much feeling to share...

There is a novel by Marlen Haushofer, an Austrian author, called The Wall. One morning in the Alps, the female narrator discovers that the valley has been cut off from the outside world by an invisible wall, beyond which every living being has died looking as if they had been turned to stone. Its ending is not very forgiving, no feelings discernible for the only other human being the narrator encounters, a man who may be crazy who may be desperate and who seemed dangerous. I do not know why but the feelings you invoked reminded me of that story...

stop all the clocks