My Private Coney is on a brief summer vacation.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
The Sweet Spot: More Snapshots from Deep Waters
You curve yourself onto that soft edge between your back and your belly, and like paint from a Matisse brush pouring into a reclining woman you glide on the sweet spot toward home, home being the other side of the pool. Or maybe a place that only looks like the middle of the bed but is just the beginning to some place buried in her heart where love buoys her to the other side of some deep waters.
Co-Named Streets Commemorate Local Heroes
-
We’ve all seen them: signs installed under the actual names of local
streets, recognizing a neighborhood notable with a “way,” “place,” or
“corner.” Whil...
8 hours ago
3 comments:
Amazingly beautiful words, like a dream song poem.
I want so much to say something that can ease the pain I sense in you. Having been through the watching and the loss myself I can commiserate. It seems we need to dwell for a while on the horrors of the last days, the losing of the person before the person is lost, and it does take a while. You think you are past it and back it comes. Eventually, though, you start to remember the happier, healthier times and your remembrance becomes more selective; it becomes a choice to think of the sadder times. I am hoping this is where you are, if not, take heart, you will get there.
The deep waters seem far out of reach of those vertical, fully living folks. But so close to those who are leaving earth behind. The image of Florence captures so much of loss and of whatever that emotion is when a loved one is almost gone--relief? Pain?
Post a Comment