He stood in rain that Halloween
Waiting for a bus, I told him
This bus wouldn’t go that night
Due to a sudden strike.
There was a cold draught, made me shiver
When his eyes met mine.
He had the oldest eyes
That I had ever seen,
The whitest hair.
He was carrying a bag
all torn and mouldy,
a browner shade of green.
He asked, we went for a drink,
I carried his bag.
He didn’t drink,
He just told me that he
Had not been back to life
For a long time. He was tired.
I blamed the impact
Of his words
On the red wine I had drunk.
He let me talk,
We talked of what should matter most
And then I asked
What was in the bag
That was so heavy. He sadly smiled.
‘Just memories of every bitter love that ever was,
and all that lovers dreamed, their nightmares too,
Mementos of great friendships that were not so great
And thoughts of good times turning out real bad.’
I was intrigued.
‘Perhaps these things
Should be forgotten,’ I remarked.
‘I wish I could. I wish that I could
Just walk out and leave this life for good. So there.’
I was not sure that I had understood.
I got my coat, then turned and he was gone.
I watched him walking
Just before he was absorbed
In the city mist.
He’d left his bag
And I could not resist:
I took a look inside.
The bag was empty now,
Weighing nothing anymore.
But I could not move on:
My heart, my body heavy, filled
With all the grief and lovers’ pain.
There are no words,
Tears were shed already,
Hands held. We stare
Out of the window into nothing
Where the birds used to be when we fed them.
The lonely Robin is eating your apple,
The one I bought weeks ago
That you can’t eat anymore.
We don’t speak, just look.
The last Robin is leaving us as well.
It is Autumn, all seems dead
And rain speaks of our near farewell
That we don’t want to fear
As I reach for your hand
We hear the Robin sing next door.
These fears keep us going in spite
To lean back now means to give in
We won’t give in for now in spite of all
And we won’t do the looking back in spite.
Against the odds you got it.
(you hadn’t smoked in decades,
you hadn’t drunk in years,
you did eat healthy stuff.)
We watch the curtains wave, we wait
For daylight entering the room.
Nocturnal clouds move over
Like every ending of each night.
My husband’s blog
This is a blog I don’t want to write. But since I started sharing my story, I don’t feel I should quit now. When I wrote my last blog posting, my “personal story”, I had a good message. The doctor who examined my petscan of a part of my organs told me he did not see any spreading of the cancer (just something suspicious ) . So I was more optimistic about the continuation of my treatment. Unfortunately today I was told that further examination showed a totally different picture. The tumor is too big and too far spread for surgery. I shall not make this a medical – technical story, but that was the essence of the message.
Of course we are going for a second opinion, but with the explanation this doctor gave, I don’t expect the outcome to be something very different. So we shall now go into the direction of chemo therapy, to slow the process down as much as possible, and to stay up and about as long as possible. Well, and what sensible thing is there left to say about this? I just don’t know now. Going for the here and now, and staying active as long as possible, living life by day or by hour. That is as far as I get for now. It was storming today, and not only at sea and on the shore. That is all for now.
Perhaps I shall write more here, for now we will recover from the blow, and then see if “living life” is an option we can live with.
looking at this jar
from every possible angle
wanting the inside out
and holding it upside down
how the lid is locked
how to open it:
that’s me and life
After the image of a jar I saw on facebook 🙂
Two women, eighty, talking in the street
Their words singing in their northern vowels
Their gossip going up and down, dancing
From mouth to mouth, and back, from eyes to eyes.
They’re in a rain of golden Autumn leaves,
They never noticed time who walks with them
As not that long ago they were two girls
Skipping ropes, laughing in the golden light.
There was a little boy
In the hospital corridor
Where people around him
And he was doing a pirouette
And this was the cancer ward
And here people were dying
There was a little boy
A mile away
A time away
And for a moment
All were dancing with him
A day away
A needle away
All became memories
That no one ever saw
Gone for a bit, as there are examinations for my husband. We will be on the mainland in hospital or at home. ❤
the only way to walk this road
is doing so together
to find the strength
of waves colliding
the only way
to go this road this time
is about now
and I shall join you all the way
What I would like for a good day now
has to start as lazy long morning
after a lot of sleep
and you beside me smiling,
arms reaching, around me, all ending
in the nicest dream, a memory to keep;
there should be a blanket of warmth
and yellow candlelight
after walking a mile on the beach,
as we find a moist smelling fire-place.
We hear friendly voices near us talking
while outside rain is pouring over a window fast.
A good day is that.
And we had such before, you and me.
I would like them forever to last.
Let there be more, more.
Let it be, let it pour.
Let life be a bit like before.