So, gentle readers, I promised you a variety of posts here at Murphy’s Law Translated and I think it is time to deliver. I solemnly declare that henceforth and forever after (or until I change my mind), Fridays shall be known as “Poetry Fridays.”
Today we shall kick things off with a poem fresh off the quill . . . or in this case, the ball point pen.
hidden in the nighttime shadows of this present world
are you watching me?
can you hear the tremor in my voice?
Do you remember that cold winter morning
you called a taxi to take me the mile to school?
While others sent children trudging through mountains of snow in search of that brick schoolhouse
You ordered up a taxi—delivered on a silver platter to our front door
(An absurd luxury when you were out of work)
And I knew your love.
I miss that confidence—
love as tangible as bricks and mortar
or your hand in mine
sweeping me into your arms as you
killed the mouse
calmed the fears
sang me sleep every night with your magic charm:
“Good night, sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
As if I could fear bed bugs with my champion sleeping down the hall.
Do you remember that cursed night you first knew?
I hope not.
I hope it is wiped forever clean from your memory.
That night our world changed
I’ve never known such fear.
There are so many things I want to tell you . . .
How thankful I am for the years we had together
How sorry I am for all the ways I failed you
If I could go back to that night
I swear I’d do it differently
Our last chance to be together
I chose myself over you
If I could do it all over again . . .
But there are no “do-overs” when it comes to death.
Do you watch us from the shadows?
This lost family you left behind
Or is it too painful?
Can you hear me crying out for you when I think no one is listening?
Longing for a shiny yellow taxi to come deliver me to you