Saturday, October 1, 2011

Behind four walls and a dozen windows.

Soon, rains will arrive.
Then, we'll run from house to car
from one walled place to another
each new stop promising a brighter day,
like hot pokers-sun rays on a dark afternoon.

God, we'll say, we had it good, and didn't know it.
God, we had a great life.
We forgot how men died in Afghanistan, on the streets of L.A.
How walls are not impenetrable, or punch proof.

Storms will flood rivers and driveways
and keep us trapped indoors for months
breathing anger, grief,blame.
Only when the roof caves in
we'll open up doors and windows and
concentrate on staying alive.



  1. So good to be alive. Thank God. And men who have helped keep us safe.

  2. sometimes i run in the rain:)

    do you know, the title could be the poem itself. this is how we live, isn't it? it is not good. we are not good to our souls.

    has your house caved in, rosaria? or have you wisely and gently, so gently for your soul, stepped outside?


  3. the intense heat kept us inside for the whole summer. now I'm happy to be outside once again.

  4. Sounds like a tough, closed in place you're in and fearing worse. In the face of uncertainty, hope makes as much sense as despair. Hope merely says: "maybe…". Abbraccio, Mary

  5. this journeyed path I know
    this is what I wrote in my journal way back then
    before I ever knew it was a poem...

    What is grief
    but injury
    a gushing hemorrhage
    an unfixable rending
    a kidnapping of time
    a hostage taking

    what is grief
    but a sign of life
    the flipside path
    of love that hurls us
    into ache

  6. Loved the title and the lines that flooded through after it. Don't we run from shelter to shelter, fearful of life, trying to stay dry.

  7. Oh, rosaria, so beautifully expressed!
    Please don't let your house collapse around you. Step (gently, as erin said) outside and feel the rain, just briefly. (( ))

  8. God we had it good. I try to catch those moments now. Loss makes me grasp. Still they slip away.

  9. Sadly, I understand this poem way too well. Thank you for putting all of this down on paper. I wish I had your ability to express how it is when the floor disappear beneath your feet and the walls crash down around you. Yes, we were naive to think that the walls are impenetrable, that we were protected from such devastation.

    You are in my thoughts and prayers. I send you blessings and hope for peace.

  10. Thanks for your thoughts and prayers.
    Thanks for sharing your responses.
    Any minute now, I'll punch through my tomb and reclaim my breath in this changed universe.

    These experiences help one connect with all the hurt out there.