[lit-ideas] Re: A distant whistling
- From: "Lawrence Helm" <lawrencehelm@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- To: <lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- Date: Tue, 25 Dec 2012 08:24:21 -0800
Thanks, John:
Susan has severe medical problems and has been very weak for several days,
to the point that this independent wife of mine even allowed me to fetch
things for her so she could stay in bed. But then she hit her head on the
bathroom sink and again when she fell to the floor. It was while worrying
whether I did the right thing by letting her sleep or whether I should have
tried to keep her awake because of possible concussion-side-effects that I
wrote the first poem in this recent sequence.
She told me when I was putting her to bed that she had just spent the worst
half-hour of her life, but a couple of days later didn't remember telling me
that.
Yesterday her church in Redlands was having a pre-Christmas service and a
young girl from church drove her to the service. It had been a while since
she had been there and everyone came to where she was sitting. One after
the other, they hugged her. She said she felt like royalty.
It was while she was at church that I wrote "A distant whistling" but she
seemed much better after she got home.
The light of my life hasn't gone out, but I saw it flicker.
Lawrence
From: lit-ideas-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx [mailto:lit-ideas-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx]
On Behalf Of John McCreery
Sent: Tuesday, December 25, 2012 12:36 AM
To: Lit-Ideas
Subject: [lit-ideas] Re: A distant whistling
Lawrence,
Powerful, and for me, contemplating what would happen if the light of my
life suddenly went out, terrifying as well. Best wishes, as the Chinese say,
for good fortune, long life, good health, and tranquility.
John
On Tue, Dec 25, 2012 at 4:03 PM, Lawrence Helm <lawrencehelm@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx>
wrote:
I knew her rough direction
And could see the tracks
Although a train hasn't been
This way in years. There was
A rose-petalness to her lips
As I kissed her good-bye,
And her natural softness
Which coupled with her
Adamantine resolve buckled
Her, sending her bloodied
To the ground. I found
Her getting into bed, furious
At her traitorous cramping-legs
Though not able to recall them
The next day and seeing no
Reason to stay as though
She were like me who puts
Words to these wrenching things,
Seeing the colors change and fade
Here as at the river, hemming
In everything I try to remember.
--
John McCreery
The Word Works, Ltd., Yokohama, JAPAN
Tel. +81-45-314-9324
jlm@xxxxxxxxxxxx
http://www.wordworks.jp/
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