surely I’m not the only one
who remembers how tenderness
first bathed your face a little bashful
like a preschool ballerina at the recital
how it made you look younger
and at the same time fragile
children shift your perceptions
and surely grandchildren do the same
I watched you holding your new granddaughter
and thought who is this man
he never smiled at me like that
and some tiny part wanted to snatch her back from the ruse
I watch you now that another grandchild
joined that first one and your face has grown
accustomed to surrendering to joy
your large dark hands weaving gentleness
your eyes crinkled with kindnesses
and how they love you for it
you walk with us to the new playground in the park
we let the children run ahead
you slip your hand in mine
and I feel stung with grief
though I can’t say exactly why
I try to leave the past in the past
knowing we lived the same history but wrote
different books and no amount
of page turning will color it a fairy tale
you bear your tragedies and I mine
and both of us have regrets
both of us carried our heart like a stone
but maybe we’ve always been wrong
thinking we had to shoulder forever that weight
maybe instead we’ve been hollow
waiting for the right time
to be filled
Sandy Coomer is a poet and mixed media artist. She is also an Ironman Gold All World Athlete, ranked in the top 1% of her age group in the Half Ironman distance. Her poetry has been published in numerous journals and anthologies. She is the author of three poetry chapbooks: Continuum (Finishing Line Press), The Presence of Absence (Winner of the 2014 Janice Keck Literary Award for Poetry), and the forthcoming Rivers Within Us (Unsolicited Press). Sandy is a poetry mentor in the AWP Writer to Writer Mentorship Program and the founding editor of the new online poetry journal Rockvale Review. She lives in Brentwood, TN. www.sandycoomer.com
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