by Liza Loop, 2010
photo by Allan Mas
We knew each other once
But then I lost you.
Lost you to determined pedals Pushed forward at the top of their arc, Left and then right, left and right.Lost you to the un-wet bed, the hung-up clothes, The stuffed toys put in rows.
Remember stepping into the garden pool
With one high-topped leather shoe,
The wonder of the ant on the peony
And the chaffer eating the rose,
The sweet smell of the rose, the sharpness of the thistle,
The softness of the kitten and the wriggle of the hamster’s toes? You were valiant in your fight against extinction,
Persistent in the giggle and the squirm.
You sang and twirled and rolled down hills,
Invented modern art, progressive jazz
And transcendental meditation.
But the urge to know and learn seduced you.
The pond of pleasing others sucked you down to its swampy bottom And held you there.
You burst into the kinders’ garden intoxicated,
Unaware that addiction to achievement and success
Would yield asphyxiation.
While once you scampered after butterfly, then bird,
Now you lumber toward the good.
The kiss that used to simply sing, “Oh happy me”
Has now become a slave to love and duty.
Somewhere deep inside the folds of my being You still whisper, “Oooh! Look! Why?”
Your smile’s reflected in the mirror of my tears. I strain against quilts of education,
Held tight around me by laces of criticism, Walled in by obligation and padlocked
By the admonitions, “Don’t be selfish.”
You were never selfish. What we told you was: “Don’t be.”
I’m walking to the twilight of my life.
I want you back.
I want you free.
copyright (c) Liza Loop 2010, Mountain View, CA USA
