The presence of your absence Walks with me today Every cell of my body Aches and wanted you to stay I feel paralyzed, suspended As if half of me is gone But my thoughts persist and tell me To survive, I must walk on This path is not mapped out No signposts point the way Though others have walked before me Their footprints have washed away My mirror shows a different face Of whom I cannot say The person that I was before Went away with you that day The presence of your absence Walks beside me every day On a journey through the darkest night I try to find my way My view from this new window Of the world’s forever changed The person that I was before Will never be the same ©Diane E. Dockum 10-18-2021
MY LOVE
I would rather stay asleep than wake
Remembering that you have died
The stillness of the house
Is always a rude awakening
Throwing salt into my wounds
I do not want to spend my life picking at scabs
I do not want to spend my life
Forgetting about our love
Or waving goodbye as you recede
Into the aether
Your energy and heat
Are something I ache for
You have changed from flesh and blood
And beauty to something new
I hang pictures of your past faces
on the walls
Memories of your touch
Invade my mind at odd moments
I overflow with tears
Flashing back to your last breath
You were still warm when
I closed your eyes and mouth
And slipped your wedding ring
From your finger onto mine
Did you hear my last goodbye?
Did you hear my last I love you?
Did you feel
my last kisses?
Diane E. Dockum
August 29, 2021
A study of Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte
Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte (Un dimanche après-midi à l’Ile de la Grande Jatte), Georges Seurat, 1884-1886.
They watch the children
But the monkey and the dogs
Go unnoticed.
Just before they arrived
Her husband couldn’t find his watch
So time got away from them
The sun was hot
And she forgot to put a bottle of water
In the picnic basket
So they drank wine in the shade
And ate cucumber sandwiches
The children ran down the green
And disappeared beyond the trees
And just before the painting was finished
The lady in the gray dress leaned back
Placing her hand directly in dog mess
You see her there wiping it off
With a white handkerchief
By Diane E. Dockum
April 30, 2018
HIDE AWAY
Door closed to dull the sounds
Of voices from the TV news
Another helicopter down
Black and white the picture beams
Into the room
Dying dreams
Of young men as they
Run across the boggy ground
Bending low under the guns
My homework spilled across my sheets
My bedspread pink and soft
I’m writing poetry instead of sums
©April 29, 2018
by Diane E. Dockum
Crossing Over
I feel the approaching rumble
Of the train as it crosses the trestle
Over the river
And slides into town
The patter of rain sooths my soul.
I turn out the lights, and pull the shades.
I relax in stages,
As the train’s slow thunder fades
Into the distance
The vanishing light of
The day dwindles softly
And into the night
©April 28, 2018
by Diane E. Dockum
READ TO ME
Under the yellow lamp with me
My mother sits in bed
With story book upon her knee
And pictures in my head
The wonder of the words she reads
With images so clear
Pages turn with daring deeds
To delight my youthful ear
The warmth of light, the pillow soft
I snuggle in her arms
And enter into fairyland
With all its pixie charms
© April 27, 2018
by Diane E. Dockum
THE TASTE OF REGRET
THE TASTE OF REGRET
(He overheard)
Girl at Taco Bell:
“I’m having a bad day,
My phone won’t work,
I have brain freeze,
And that drink went down the wrong hole.”
Other girl (he overheard) at Taco Bell:
“You need to slow down.”
So, instead of remembering
To get the special medium taco sauce,
He left as soon
As his order was ready,
Kicking himself when he got home.
He ordered 4 bottles of
Taco Bell sauce from Amazon.
It will be here in 4 days.
©April 26, 2018
by Diane E. Dockum
FIGHTING SLEEP
I sit exhausted
On the couch
My eyes burn
My hearing fades
The television talks to no one
Sleep snatches at me
Quickly and my head
Snaps back
The opening of my eyes
Is so difficult
Such a chore
I have no dream
My fingers poised
Upon the keyboard
There is a high-pitched
Whistle that levels
My breathing
That draws me down
And sucks me into
The valley of
Sleep
Why fight?
Give in!
The cats are gathering
Purring around me
Snuggling down
Fuzzy thoughts
And prickly, blurring eyes
make me choose to let go
Just get me up off this couch
Just steer me up the stairs
Get my nighty on
And slide between the sheets
Let go let go let go
©April 25, 2018
by Diane E. Dockum
BEAUTIFUL SONG
Such a beautiful song
The Robin sings
So earnest
So sweet
So true
He sits at the top
Of the tallest tree
And sings to his
Love so true
All the evening
Passes by
Yet still he tweets his song
The warble and trill
I hear from my sill
Till the dark
When he’s up and gone
©April 24, 2018
by Diane E. Dockum
SIGHTS AND SOUNDS OF APRIL
*Note: I just can’t think of a poem tonight. I’ve been struggling for several hours now and … well, I just can’t. So, here is a poem from 2014, I hope it speaks to you.
Sights & Sounds of April
On the morning after
The snow had almost gone,
The birds had quiet conversations,
And the sun was bright
On the squashed grass.
The shadows of bare branches
Reached across the sodden lawn, and
Painted the pavement
With rivers of light and dark.
The far away sound of wind chimes
Blessed the air with mellow tones
And the quiet ticking of the clock
Counted seconds as the last deep drift
By the hedge receded into the earth.
Shriveled blood-red berries on the
Mountain Ash tree waited
For the Jays and Crows, and
For the Starlings’ return, poised there in the sun.
Last autumn’s apricot colored maple leaves
Still shivered on the branches,
Stubbornly holding on as they had all winter.
Shockingly tenacious,
They prevailed through the bitter cold.
They kept hold despite the arctic blasts.
They would not give up to the heavy nor’easter snows,
Though they were dry and fragile even then, they
Held fast, waiting for their reinforcements to appear.
© Diane E. Dockum
April 12, 2014
Marble Hill Press 