Where the Burberry Went

There are some things you just can’t hold on to:
The keys to the shed, the keys to the car,
The king of clubs in the Bicycle deck.

The cold clouds of Spokane traveled
Cross-country to find you, but an umbrella? No.
There are some things you can’t hold on to.

Your birth certificate is gone again;
You ask her where you left it. It’s just
One of those things you can’t hold on to.

And when she does not answer, and shrugs
Into your best raincoat and leaves
The screen door open, it is to you to realize:
There are things you can’t hold on to.

photograph by Suzanne


Teri and the cats of Furrydance said...

I like this one. I can feel the rain, and the game and the raincoat, and the open door.

Mr. Apron said...

This poem is beautiful and smacks of great truth without hammering people on the head with your point. People don't like to be hammered about the head, you know. Especially masons.

Monica said...

Quiet sadness underneath. Nice.

Scott said...

first of all, too short? you've got some bread and cheese, but where's the MEAT?!

sandwich metaphor. i'm hungry.

first line: the word "just" might not be needed.

do like: Spokane, and "she does not answer ... screen door open" all that is cool beans.

this is one of those poems i don't have much to say about. which is bad? it's not that i dislike it! but i feel neutral and that is prolly bad.

ugh. you asked. i'm trying.

i can haz kizzy face nao?!

Anonymous said...

This is excellent

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