SHIPWRECKED
I remembered the silence within the
One turn… the turn at the corner that I
Believed would flatter my possibilities
And point me in a different direction.
But at the end of each day, I crossed the
Finish line at no particular extraordinary
Place: I was suspended in space where a
Past hardly mattered, where on new days
I bent to the bricks on roads that struggled
To keep me going.
All avenues had narrow lanes
With no wiggle room and allowed for
No deep different dives.
So I went this way, went that way
Many times knitting elixirs
In grey attics so I could
Navigate bridges
Drive through a tunnel
Take a train passing a river
Live in solitary confinement
Or get lost at sea and not feel abandoned.
When I reached the end, I finally
Understood nothing mattered:
Not my angers, not the songs I sang
Or my spoken words, or my written words
Scrawled like graffiti on the toilet wall.
It was only the distant sound of
A lover’s heart still beating
That always should have
Brought me home.
Marjorie J. Levine © 2020
THE WAY HE LOOKED AT HER
I have lived my entire life
Within my own head, consumed
With possibilities but never catching
That brass ring.
I went close to so many rocky borders
But never took chances
Or crossed any dangerous lines.
I danced with strangers at sock hops
And later passed through
Usual stages:
I dated this guy, went out with that guy,
Picked up guys at bars,
Wore boyfriend shirts,
And as the decades rolled by
I clung to unusual stages:
Developing crushes on men
Who did not even give me a side glance.
I rolled along this way or that way
And let time pass quickly under
No remarkable relationship umbrella.
It was just the way it was:
Some just fall through
The romance cracks.
But as I aged, my pages
Were showing sharper glimpses of
What eluded me.
The strong wind knocked something
Over and when I looked through the
Window and saw under a street light
The way he was looking at her,
I realized life had passed me by.
Marjorie J. Levine © 2020
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