Friday, June 8, 2012


(in the photo: Brian in 2008 in Port Orford)

We see so little
of the universe as we hold tightly to the
tail ends of our balloons 
fighting the winds
that spin us around and around
and drop us in the same place.

At the creek's end
I sliced through the topography, I asked you what was the matter that morning.
You told me your hair was.

We just notice what we are interested in, I said.
This bothers me more than it should, you said.
And the talk stalled
as we walked back home silently.
You looked disappointed.
I thought I did that to you with the genes I bestowed
without the additional comfort and joy
and ribbons
that come with life-long presents.
If I said anything, you didn't catch it.
If you said anything, I lost it.


  1. I spent some time this morning going back to read more of your posts, so worth my time! The poem you wrote on March 27 (Strings, Particles, Molecules) is amazing. The words you wrote on March 29 "I continue to live. I breathe deeply and carry on" are so brave. On March 31, (More of this, less of that) the last line "is this how we thought our lives were going to be" got to me! On May 2nd (Poetry of Loss #3) .. profound. Loved the contrast between you and Ken on May 12! The Graduation post should be required reading!!! On May 17 you mentioned being envious of artists/writers who 'reached hearts' .. no need to EVER be envious, you do that! The line I enjoyed most today? 'If I said anything, you didn't catch it. If you said anything, I lost it.'

  2. Beautiful. Again, the poem is spare and packed with meaning. The imagery in the first stanza feels exactly right. And, like Helen, I love the last two lines.

  3. i can picture you and brian walking along the beach, having this conversation. i don't know if this is true in all cases, but the conversations between mother and son are quite different than those between mother and daughter. with a son there is a lot of not talking, and the mother is left, trying to parse the meaning between silences.

    your brian was very, very loved by his mother.

  4. Hauntingly beautiful. I guess it is the conversations that we lost that we most want to return to us.

  5. Rosaria, those opening lines. The whole first stanza. What comes after (what comes before) is important, essential and heartwrenching. But holding the ends of balloons, while looking up into the cosmos, and not seeing it! Deeply affecting.