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by Ingrid Showalter Swift

My knees
I used to fall to my knees
They just gave way beneath me 
And down I went
Just like the movies
The weight of loving and losing 
So great 
I could no longer hold my own
And I would fall
Hands turned to the sky
To my knees
I am a lamenting Christ
Asking why
I fall face first into the grass
No pain- just
The soft clean smell of spring's children pushing
Toward the sky... in my nostrils
I breath in and out so hard
That all I could see, smell and taste was new green grass
Loving you
Losing you
And moving on 
Like the Movies
All drama and tragedy
I know my sacrifice will, in the end,
Buy a cosmic cure for someone somewhere
And now... I move on 
Into this lullaby of a future
With a man who I love
A man, who loves me real and here and now and forever
As he puts it "Not a fantasy... a reality"
And I still smell the grass
I still see the Robin as he returns in the spring
But with each passing day
I better remember my own name
And forget what went before
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Poem ID: 29592   Poem Posted: 4/22/2000
Viewed: 14038  Voted On: 160  E-mailed: 20  Commented On: 3
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