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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
seeing someone ay a distance away , you are hopeing they will look as you imagine , but they never are up close. how often do you see beauty acros the street or across a smokey room and- you only see the perfections in the face . when you get up close you see so many imperfections - and your image , you discover is something you created from suggestions from this image . this was a moment in such time when i saw a girl so like someone I deeply loved and who died some time ago, I didnt want to get up close and endure that disappointment.

Submitted: December 01, 2008

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Submitted: December 01, 2008



Across the transept  under the stolid pillars
I see a face shimmering in the flickering candlelight
A face so near but a memory away in time
A prayerful cherished memory I brought to tears
And sullied.

Under the nave the first sounds of the choir gather urgencies
In  a pleading vehemence to the Lord
A primal rhythmic roar of celebration  ; Christmas carols;

The sacred memory is carried back on gossamer  threads of  time
The girls face is yours , but its you when you were twenty
And I am riveted to my pew , afraid to touch the fragile image of you
Lest it is not that like you up close.

They finish with a jolly hymn .
So jolly that the conductor wears a  jovial Christmas hat;
For the last hymn
And I look across the transept
Afraid to let this image go.

But its fleeing like smoke wafting from the winter chimneys'
From the squatted houses all along the canal ,
And running to sea like the furious Corrib  under Wolf Tone bridge

The face is still a cherished memory away
And I don’t know who owned that face tonight
In the shimmering in the pallid candlelight

That I sullied and brought to tears
And to its knees ,
A memory held by gossamer threads
So many failed lifetimes ago.

I couldn’t let myself see the face
Nor hear her voice , or see her smile
Just in case she was more like you than I imagined
Or even worse ; if she wasn’t like you at all.

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