Audrey Ashira


In freewrite on June 25, 2010 at 11:27 pm

I’m flipping through old letters
train tickets
and plane tickets
and tickets to the plays we’ve seen:
Much Ado…
Romeo and Juliet
[twice. it was better the second time-
when Romeo can almost make you regret
that you are not Juliet]
I’m teasing you again.
From Paris to Versailles….
[I can almost see you in the gardens
reciting Madeline and Longfellow]
[dreamer –
heedless of a comming storm]
Then a button –
and scrawled letters skidding across the lined paper
and a magazine clipping
[I can almost hear you
under the covers
laughing uncontrollably
and trying to cover your mouth
and still breathe]
and a few post-scripts
that get me every time
and then those lyrics
[I can almost feel you
grabbing my hand
as we proceed
to dodge bullets
and clutch music as it flies by]

mementos are poor relics
for the lyric silence
of your eyes

  1. Memories make everything we are, no?
    Without them, little could ever be known…

    “Poetry is the art of uniting pleasure with truth, by calling imagination to the help of reason.” ~ Samuel Johnson

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