As my winter ends,
Yours begins.
While the others bask in spring
And glow with their rebirth,
Your fire begins to fade,
A candle to the dawn.
The morning sky grows sickly.
I watch my friend die.
But as long as I remember
You will never die.
Remember your name
And the happiness
Of our first days together.
Remember you were family
When I had
Or wanted none.
Remember how you followed me
After the month
I was away.
Remember your eyes
Begging me
Not to leave again.
Now I follow where you lead,
Always wanting you near
For fear of
Tomorrow.
When I will stand behind the door,
Aching for your return,
Knowing it is too soon
To follow.
4/96
© 2017 Edward P. Morgan III
As earlier in the year, I am posting a poem here and an essay related to it.
ReplyDeleteYou can find more background on this poem in the companion essay “Beltane 2017 – Felicia” on the Noddfa Imaginings blog for essays.
Picture Notes:
ReplyDeleteI sketched Felicia the day she died. I wanted to set in my mind an image of her, one I would never forget. I had started a day or two before. We had called the vet to say it was time. Felicia’s coloring made her difficult to draw. How do you draw black, and still give it texture and depth? She was restless those last days so it was hard to get her to sit still. She wouldn't hold still long enough to draw her, but i wanted to try anyway. I started with the sketch of her facing left, got the outline done and most of her coloring’s outline before she moved. But then I did something I don’t normally do. When she settled again, I started a second sketch on the same page, outlining her form and coloring again as quickly as I could. For the next hour or so, as she shifted from one position to the next I simply switched from one sketch to the other, the first blending into the second, until both and each were finished. In the end, the two sketches portray both sides of her face, and both sides of her personality that day, one brighter and more attentive and the other pained and lost in thought.
I’ve always found that if I really want to look at something, I should draw it. In college, during an assignment to collect shells and identify them, I drew each of them. It gives you a different perspective. It forces you to really look at something. This is the only drawing of mine we have on display in the house. I had it framed for Edward in the year after her death and it hangs in the front hall. Some 21 years later, I’m still proud of it, and still amazed that it came out the way it did, in form and in composition, and most importantly, in spirit and likeness. I still miss you, little one. Peace.