the trouble is
my life
is lovely
not everything
must
be a poem:
mist
on a motel
golf course
is not,
and yet......
I am
afraid
to have
no talent
afraid
of loneliness
if I do.
########
MY GREAT SUMMER
(2013)
It’s the summer
of long ago
again.
Not the summer
of
sandy dunes
and
ocean
beach.
Not the summer
of
Roman ruins
and
Ancient
lake.
Not the summer
of
screened-in
porch
and crying
loon.
Not the summer
of
cocktail hour
and
backyard
pool.
Not the summer
of
covered
bridge
and
waterfall
Not the summer
of
red lightning.
Not the summer
of
But the summer
of
childhood
between
kid
and
catching up.
The summer
of
nothing
but
itself.
####
-Patricia Ryan
C. 2013
TODAY YOU KNOW IT’S TOO LONG WITHOUT THEM
You’ve waited before.
Held your breath.
For Christmas.
For summer.
Til the car pulled up.
It was reasonable.
You knew how.
It always came true
sooner or later.
But today
you know something
is wrong, the wait is
too long today
it hits you like
the puzzled child
who has to give
up, stop sitting
on the curb looking
down the street, who gets
called in for dinner because
now it’s too late.
Today you get the full
impact: the dead
don’t show up no
matter how many
years you think are
too many no matter
they are absent
beyond patience
they are not coming.
Today you know the car
will never pull up to
the curb
Christmas will
always arrive
empty
and summer will
forever be
cold.
#####
-Patricia Ryan
12/2/13
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