An apology is the superglue of life. It can repair just about anything.
—Lynn Johnston
I wanted her to apologize,
told myself I needed it.
She gave me a blank page.
A silent room.
A heart wildly aware
of its own beating.
If she had any inkling
how rich these gifts have been,
how much more abundant and spacious my life
has become,
I think
she would have
apologized.
Again, that superglue quote sets up beautifully. I do wonder if I’m reading this correctly, though, that the “rich gifts” are the page, the room, and the heart. Calling them gifts appears intentionally opposite of what they seemed to be. I just don’t quite see how they could make your life more abundant and spacious, unless perhaps without her in your life…?
first, let me say that “inkling” is soooo the right word, what with that blank page.
And what of, what is, these gifts you’re poeming about? And, too, the suspicion she would have rather apologized? My head goes spinning (in incredibly good ways) pondering the apparent incongruities. I delight in knowing so thoroughly the terrain covered by this poem, while having such essential questions as to what it’s precisely about. For some reason, this stanza from Stafford’s, Scars, arose in my mind:
Any wound is real. In church
a woman lets the sun find
her cheek, and we see the lesson:
there are years in that book; there are sorrows
a choir can’t reach when they sing.
sooo funny. I guess I thought it was so obvious how silence and space could be a great gift, even if they don¹t feel like it at first.
And I guess my idea about her wanting to apologize is that she would rather not see my life filled with abundant anything! If she thought that silence were in my favor, she wouldn¹t let me have it!
I think the poem needs some work, if I continue to move forward with it. Might have just been a good release 🙂 xo
From: “comment-reply@wordpress.com” Reply-To: Date: Tuesday, February 24, 2015 at 7:31 PM To: Rosemerry Trommer Subject: [A Hundred Falling Veils] Comment: “That’s the Kind of Woman She Is”
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i saw the same gifts that you mentioned. I guess I was thrown, maybe I still am thrown, by someone who would give such a rich gift, yet wish you/someone to not have a spacious and abundant life. Perhaps I’m not wanting you to have such a person in your life.
Rereading this poem again, I’m hearing it say something about the difference, the dissonance(?), between apology received and apology given. I’m seeing the page/room/heart as being accepted/received by you as the apology you sought from her. Meanwhile, she’s thinking she’s left you high and dry; and if she found out it’d actually been otherwise, she’d wished she had offered her own (lesser) apology.
I’m not so certain whether the poem needs further work. Its rough places give the reader entry points and places to purchase. Too slick and polished, and we slide right off.
ah, see, this is quite close to where I was coming from I am glad to know you could arrive there Thank you for revisiting it with your comments, eduardo