‘n bietjie snot en trane
you came round to say goodbye
on a day perfect for leave-taking:
heavy grey skies drizzled dolefully,
even though it was the beginning of spring
we sat in a small café
and I watched the trees crying outside
the kitchen was out of milk,
so I took my whisky black with a shot of coffee
you brought me some keepsakes:
a chopping board you’d made,
and a duffel coat to keep me warm,
and all your CDs, for safekeeping
(and an excuse to return some day)
we held hands across the table;
your hand was rough and warm and familiar
your mouth moved, but all I heard was the background music:
david gray singing ‘say hello, wave goodbye’
it was ironic, clichéd; another time I might have laughed
but your eyes were wet
and I brushed something from my cheek
when the weight on my chest became too great,
I said I had to get back to work
we walked in the rain;
you carried the bag heavy with keepsakes
that you hoped you could make amends with
and knew you couldn’t
my hand slipped into your jacket pocket
I said I’m not angry
you said you’d come for me one day
and take me far away
but you’d said that before
and we both knew it
September 5th, 2008 at 10:12 am
narike, your poems are all so amazing.
September 5th, 2008 at 1:14 pm
high praise… thank you for reading them
September 21st, 2008 at 5:32 am
Snot en trane maak mens vry….