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.
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3 comments:

  1. AnonymousSeptember 23, 2008 at 8:20 PM

    Payyt, I can't believe it has only been two years. It feels like an eternity. Elizabeth is deeply missed.

    ReplyDelete
  2. AnonymousDecember 8, 2008 at 7:58 PM

    December 8, 2008
    My dearest Aakres,
    It's funny that the only other person that commented on this poem was my mother. I guess it is some kind of family bond that brings our minds together.The loss of one of the most purest, loving kind hearted people doesn't make sense. I send all of my love to both of you and hope you will never forget about that love.
    All my love,
    Emily Rust

    ReplyDelete
  3. Patricia MarkertDecember 8, 2008 at 9:30 PM

    Thank you Emily for writing. It is always good to hear from you.

    Love,

    Patty

    ReplyDelete

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How Dina Aunty relished her memories. Mummy and Daddy were the same, talking about their yesterdays and smiling in that sad-happy way while selecting each picture, each frame from the past, examining it lovingly before it vanished again in the mist. But nobody ever forgot anything, not really, though sometimes they pretended, when it suited them. Memories were permanent. Sorrowful ones remained sad even with the passing of time, yet happy ones could never be re-created—not with the same joy. Remembering bred its own peculiar sorrow. It seemed so unfair: that time should render both sadness and happiness into a source of pain.

> From A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry