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Nothing changed.

I hardly expected,

though part of me

wished. Sentimental

to the death, and I do

mean it literally.



what spell held us

there? some magic

in the air that made

so much love so

possible. Why then

does it end, the plane

step so final, the

smiles left abroad.



For every place

we went, I picked

a stone, a chunk

of memory to hold

on those overcast

and blank days

like this.



They are small comfort.

Only make the heart

yearn for what

it cannot have.

What is lost

over the years.



I spend the afternoon

pasting pictures in

an album, fixing

the smiles in place

like opening a doll's

eyes to make her

come to life; instead



we just look startled

the mind filling with

the question, Why

am I smiling? Who is

this person? As if one

day we went to bed,

woke up the next

day with a stranger.



I run for the safety of the doorframe.

I know the whole world is about to come down.



------
Sadi Ranson-Polizzotti

http://www.tantmieux.squarespace.com/
http://www.sottovocce.blogspot.com/
http://www.cabinetist.blogspot.com/


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Comments

The following comments are for "afterward"
by sadijane

right....
yes.... your first sentence is correct, and although that sounds wretched (one cannot live in the past), the reality is often quite different. ONe wants to live in the past or the recent past. In this case, it was leaving Europe again (sigh) and missing home. There is a future, just not the future that i want right now, which is absurd and defeatist. I want a different "now" if that makes sense. Je ne veux pas habite ici maintenant.... I miss home...! So it's that simple and that complicated at once. STill you have to make do with circumstance.

If i read you rightly, this is not such big drama (unless there is a real earthquake - there isn't - then the last two lines are almost two sentimental, which i would't disagree with.


Perhaps they should be cut? The other lines seem to gel well, i think. an di'm really glad you like the imagery here... it's one of the better ones, written in Paris, Septembre, 2005 in Montparnasse, where much of my poetry is written or was written. i findit easier to write there than there for some reason. perhaps fewer distractions? whatever the case, the result are these few offerings.

Thanks so much for your thoughtful and serious comments... you're an excellent critic and writer. I'm grateful - je suis tres tres reconnaisante...

a bien tot, amicalement,

sadi

( Posted by: sadijane [Member] On: December 31, 2005 )

Afterward
SadiJane;
Lovely poem; When I read you, I never have to wonder what I'm going to read, cause I know it will be a gem, just like Lucie's work. Enjoyed very much.



Blessings,
{{{Jeannie}}}

( Posted by: JEANNIE45 [Member] On: December 31, 2005 )

jeannie
jeannie, you really say such great things, now if i could only convince MYSELF of them, but it IS nice to know that someone out there is reading and is moved, because i never know and that's hard... you just sort of submit to the abyss in some ways. To get that echo back, and a beautiful one at that, means everything...

thanks for taking the time to comment and to read - it's always good to see your name there.

be well,

s.

( Posted by: sadijane [Member] On: December 31, 2005 )

TWO LINES
Cher Lucie, je suis d'accord. tu as la raison. the last two lines could serve as a segue of sorts between the first and second part of a poem -- good idea. i wouldn't have thought of that myself, so thank you for the inspiration.

amicalement,

s.

( Posted by: sadijane [Member] On: December 31, 2005 )





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