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I Write This To Remember

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Like The Wind In The Middle Of The Night

The Hoping

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I Write This To Remember


its amateurish
I've heard
to give a synopsis of a poem
before you even get started
before you write it or
recite it at an open mic

so why did I use this title--
I write this to remember

I write this
because it is my choice
because I need to remember this

I write a lot about dreaming
there are some dreams which haunt me
in waking life
some which recur in different variations
like a Hollywood reboot of the same film
which often was best in its original form

this dream
had the usual suspects,
I guess,
but the reboot was glaringly stark
and much too disturbing

I awakened crying

you and I were in sodden pajamas
in the middle of winter
sleeping on mattresses in the snow
in plain sight in a yard
yet
no one cared to notice us

you said to me
I am done with this life
and you left in a huff
angry, forlorn, frightened

I wandered, shoe-less, in the snow
getting wetter
desperate to figure out where to go
then deciding to go to my Mother's--
if I could only recall
where it was

I wandered for days until I found
my Mother's house
she answered the door brightly,
expecting me,
I could not believe it was her
(You and I know she's long dead)

Well hello
she beamed--
I am so glad you found you're way...
she said
(tears were streaming down my face)
she seemed overly eager to see me

I have your cat here
would you care to see him
its Ghuey isn't it?!
she was tender in the way she spoke
and there was Ghuey
but he was not quite Ghuey
(looking thin and scratched up and ill)
but I almost swallowed him up
grabbing him oh-so-gently into my arms

He then, too, looked into me
with overly-eager golden eyes,
hungry eyes

both my Mother and Ghuey had
wobbling edges like mirages in the desert
as if they were
put there to assuage my anxiety
and massage my grieving heart

Mom--
I stuttered
No--she said
don't say a word
we'll get you hot tomato soup
and you can hold your kitty

then you knocked,
the partner I thought I'd lost,
at the front door
I couldn't understand how you'd come to find me--
I was so relieved

I said to you
this IS my Mother
remember, you've met before

we looked at each other then
realizing
that none of this was real
and never would be again
not even wanting this could make it so

and I realized how lost
I truly was
for every one is a part of
one another
long after the other is gone

it was an electric jolt
to my system to see them,
to realize that seeing them is
like seeing the part of myself
that helped make me feel whole

and then when I woke
they were gone again
and I was lost
and they were lost to me
all over again

so this is grieving
in a not so straight-forward dream form
I cannot be myself grieving like this
every day
the world won't give me the time and
nor make allowances for this

but I've got to decide to
make allowances for others
there's no road-map for grief
I've found my journey nearly always
doubles back on itself

so I write this to remember
maybe the next time
the journey will be shortened
a few small steps
maybe
the place of dreams
is another world
where what my heart wants
comes to life
if only for a moment


LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM TIME DATE STAMPED 5:57PM PST
AUGUST 28, 2019 WHICH ASSURES LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THE
FORM OF THIS POEM
AND ALSO FOR THIS WRITER MELISSA A HOWELLS
AND ALSO  FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD













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