Beth Camp Historical Fiction

Friday, January 04, 2013

I don't remember . . .


I don’t remember what I learned last year.
In January, my love and I watched eagles winter at a mountain lake.
In March, we traveled south to see sand hill cranes migrate.
My aunt’s paintings became more precious
with her death. And in March, 
I stood beside my sister to mourn her husband’s passing.
In June, my daughter became a mother; joy on joy,
our conversations are different now.
In November, my love and I traveled to the ends of the earth,
or so it seemed, to Africa. Maybe our souls need more time
to catch back up with our bodies
that flew forty-six hours home.
I number the doctor visits on both hands twice over,
yet we talk of travel to Paris and walking once again along the Seine.
I breathe in memories of this last year
as dear, as pungent as lilacs. 

Today's poetry prompt comes from Morgan Dragonwillow, Playing With Words, to write a poem about this last year. I do write nearly every day, but somehow 2012 seems nebulous to me. 

What did I learn from this last year? Only to celebrate the gift of each day, yet somehow I cannot put this into words that say exactly how I feel.

If you're hopping here from the Ultimate Blog Challenge, have you written about 2012?