Postcard to a "Friend"

You know that Woodpecker we used to laugh about?

The one that would wake us up

at four in the morning,

drumming to Vivaldi?

 

Well,

I startle into the world every day now

to the stabs of him

sitting on my left breast,

drilling holes into my chest.

 

He hears the skittering, skittering of my heart

and he thinks there are beetles in there.

 

I hoped that he would stay with you,

and you could lock him up or let him go.

He flew the whole ocean to follow me

and I haven't got a thing to feed him.

 

I stopped playing Vivaldi after I left,

though you burned it to my hard drive,

thinking he might realize the music was yours

and fly back.

I suppose he must have memorized the melody

because it hasn't worked so far. 

 

Anyway, you'd best come get him.

I know it's a long, cruel flight

just to pick up a Woodpecker.

But my rib cage is only so thick,

and I can't wear plate-armor to bed every night.

 

P.S.

 

While you're here,

I thought we might

give that "Goodbye"

another go.

Reviews

[NoneOfYourBusiness akaK..]

this world you draw I understand like the firefly her own light even though she cannot see it~ it is always there waiting for a reflection to cast a spell~

[My Fair Lady]

What I take from this is the realization that leaving is more painful than you thought it would be. When we realize that we are an instrument in the hands of our lover. I could feel the longing to be played again and the hurt to go away. It's so hard to say I'm sorry.

[Gracie-San]

This poem was amusing, but I feel as if there is some dark undertone in this piece that I can't quite put my finger on.

Anyways, I have to agree with another reviewer and say I did like how personal this was and overall it was a great read.

[An owl on the moon]

This is a remarkably insightful write, weaving in and out of metaphor and life's magic. I found it filled with vivid imagery that connected to both heart and head. Powerful!

[Alex Walters]

This is a very interesting piece. I love how personal it feels.