In 1977 I spent 9 months in Bermuda programming and installing a database for an international insurance company. I worked hard and played harder in those days. I also spent a fair amount of time alone and introspective, observing stuff. Like palm trees.
Who do the palms wave at
When the wind blows cool
With the rain slanting down?
Is it washing dancing on the line
To a private sunshine tune?
Or a bedraggled puppy
Racing home in soggy confusion?
Are they just moving their bodies
To nature’s ancient rhyme?
Ah, love and loss and heart ache. Where would poets be without it! Better now thanks. Twenty year old poem that still works, I think. Feel free to shoot me down in flames if needed.
She’s gone
Through the aperture
A last glimpse
Then
She’s gone
Tears at the airport
Happy kind of crying
Home in an hour
Found the I-love-you-stones
Just on departure time
Later in the bathroom
Blubbed a bit
Having a leak
Looking at the shower cap
Then her toothbrush
Her henna shampoo
The telltale towel
Not to forget
The well placed
Hairy hair bands
Around the doorknob
Remind me daily of her absence
From this place
Yet her presence in my life