|Flickr Creative Commons Photo by Sarah Browning|
Just when the story's getting good,
I must close the book and return it
to the rightful owner.
I have marked up the text a bit:
underlined key phrases,
jotted notes in the margins.
I've dogeared some pages,
left smears of optimism,
streaked whole paragraphs with my tears,
slept with the book under my pillow,
taken it with me everywhere,
thrown it at the wall in frustration (on more than one occasion).
You'd think by now I would have learned to live
with never knowing the ends of these stories.
I have not.
©Mary Lee Hahn, 2015
There are just a few more days of school left, and I am getting ready to say goodbye, in most cases forever, to the people who have been my life for the past 9 months -- this crazy, quirky bunch of students who bloomed late, but bloomed GLORIOUSLY.
Love this extended metaphor, Mary Lee.ReplyDelete
You'd think, wouldn't you...? But it gets to be this time of year and I am always left wistful and wondering.
Best to you. Enjoy the summer. Go fishing. Take many photographs. And write many, many poems. :)
So, I took the dogs for a walk this AM and thought about your poem. Have I shared the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows with you? There's a word there, Sonder, that seems to fit this feeling of being part of another's life while living one's own, too. You might enjoy this, if you haven't already seen it.ReplyDelete