Winslow Homer, Eastern Point Light
She almost remembers sailing over open seas,
a symphony of waves and skies, singing
of a universe of tomorrows,
with the wind whispering when—
she almost remembers
though it wasn’t her life
~and if her heart wonders~
and wanders through the never was,
she imagines by his bed a picture
of past celebrations, and lingering kisses,
embraces, poetry in the night–
and time, an open window
of what might have been
A collaborative poem with the Oracle.
Yesterday and today: Merril's historical musings 
Oh, lovely! It’s the ‘almost’ that I think makes this so poignant. It has the same tone as the puente I wrote yesterday but gentler and more personal.
Thank you! I think that was the first phrase I came up with. Sometimes the Oracle just gives you the right phrases and lets you go with them. 🙂
I think that’s the way to go rather than try to find every word. They might be there is you splice and splice, but who has the time for that? Better to take a hint and get on with it.
Yes, she knows we understand what she’s hinting at. 😉
She gives the skeleton, we flesh it out.
Exactly!
Lovely Merril.
Thank you, Linda!
Beautiful, Merril. Enjoy your Saturday.
Thank you, Jill. You, too!
This is absolutely wonderful and touching, Merril. So poignant.
Thank you so much, Dale.
Thank YOU for sharing your beautiful poetry with us.
❤
Seamless collaboration
Thank you very much!
Pleasure
Another splendid puente! You and the Oracle are a productive pair!
Thank you so much! 🙂
Like a dream.
Yes, I think so, too. Thank you, Ken.
I can just imagine her grasping for memories
Yes. . .thank you, Derrick.
I almost remembered that I read a certain book when I read the title on another writer’s blog. Today the Oracle was not speaking clearly to me. Lack of collaboration, I guess.
Oh, well. . . .
I’m not sure what this is supposed to mean, but OK. Thanks. 😉
Reblogged this on From 1 Blogger 2 Another.
Thank you very much!
Haunting and so beautiful! Your poem reminds me of stories my grandmother would tell us about her youth. As I lulled myself to sleep, I, too, lived through her adventures in dreams.
Thank you so much, Rose! That is just the feeling I wanted to evoke. 🙂
😊
Indeed, the sense of this poem is haunting. “she almost remembers / though it wasn’t her life”: this suggests the power of story-telling, especially stories of one’s own family that can be so vivid, you might think you had experienced them yourself.
Thank you very much for that thoughtful comment. I had thought of it as sort of the path she did not take, but it could easily be your interpretation–or both, I suppose. Thank you!
Time as an open window…that’s just right. (K)
Thank you very much–yes, seems right to me, as well.