The Sadness of Sullivan County
Palisades Parkway
in early summer. Second
summer without her.
Back then we counted
tag sales (once there were fifteen),
as we won’t again.
The cat circles us,
bumps his head into ours,
then turns. We’re not her.
Where are the kisses
she lavished on him as if
he were human?
She was pure light,
shining her life on others.
How can she be gone?
At midnight the moon
shone through the window. I sense
it is her spirit.
Palisades Parkway
in early summer. Second
summer without her.
Back then we counted
tag sales (once there were fifteen),
as we won’t again.
The cat circles us,
bumps his head into ours,
then turns. We’re not her.
Where are the kisses
she lavished on him as if
he were human?
She was pure light,
shining her life on others.
How can she be gone?
At midnight the moon
shone through the window. I sense
it is her spirit.
from Nicholas Alciati
9/4/08
I went back into the darkroom today. This is my second photography class since you’ve been gone. Although it’s still so hard sometimes, when I’m in the darkroom I feel comfort. The kind of comfort I felt when we played video games together in my warm basement after sledding down the treacherous hills of Syracuse. You were always Princess Peach. The darkroom gives me time to reflect upon our time together, and I feel your presence with every gentle wave of chemical over my photo paper. When you were gone, my mom brought back a pack of your paper; every print from that pack was perfect, much like you. You were a great mentor to me. You taught me to be myself and to love life. I still hear your laugh in every picture taken with my camera. I can still see your reflection in the chemicals used to develop my prints. I find myself going to the darkroom more, just to be with you. Your passion is now mine, and I love you for it.
I went back into the darkroom today. This is my second photography class since you’ve been gone. Although it’s still so hard sometimes, when I’m in the darkroom I feel comfort. The kind of comfort I felt when we played video games together in my warm basement after sledding down the treacherous hills of Syracuse. You were always Princess Peach. The darkroom gives me time to reflect upon our time together, and I feel your presence with every gentle wave of chemical over my photo paper. When you were gone, my mom brought back a pack of your paper; every print from that pack was perfect, much like you. You were a great mentor to me. You taught me to be myself and to love life. I still hear your laugh in every picture taken with my camera. I can still see your reflection in the chemicals used to develop my prints. I find myself going to the darkroom more, just to be with you. Your passion is now mine, and I love you for it.
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