Saturday, January 5, 2013

Ode to Joy

for Joy Lowe

Joy is dying,
lying comatose
on a hospital bed
in Franklin Square.

Joy is dying
& there’s nothing
I can say or do,
pray, perhaps,
but even that
is no guarantee.

Joy is dying
& all I can really
do is remember
the fun we had
getting ready
to go dancing
on a Sunday night:
Destinations, Chaps,
All three floors
of PT Flaggs.
Do you remember
the Powercore?

I watched her
then, so full of life,
vigor & vim in every writhe
& spin, strawberry
blonde locks of hair
grabbing at the air
the way I wished
they would want
to grab me.

Joy is dying,
I have no time
to say goodbye,
instead I will remember
the dancing, remember
a young man’s crush,
remember the flames
of her eyes.

I want Joy to live

in my soul.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I am surprised that no one has commented on this poem; it is truly heartfelt, and well written. How very sad that you lost a dear friend. Unfortunately, for us all, the irony of love is that loss is its inevitable companion. We cannot have one without the other. Despite this truth, we continue to desire to love, and be loved. Thank God, we humans are so resilient. Peace - K.