Re-Membering

I showed Margie the poem I borrowed from her last week, and she was absolutely charmed by it. “This is great! Who wrote this?” 

“You did.”

“No! When?” 

“2014.”

“Wait. What year is it now? How long….”

“It’s 2024 now. Ten years ago you wrote that poem. We were in a writing group together.”

“Ten years. It’s a very good poem. I can sort of see why you wanted to be my friend. If I really wrote that.”

I got her another one she wrote in that period, and when she read it, she touched her heart and wept. (Today’s photo.) When she could talk again, she told me,

“Whoever wrote that has been where I’ve been. It’s amazing.”

“You wrote it, Margie. You wrote it ten years ago.”

“Well damn, I was good. This really moves me." (After a long pause) "The place names are familiar, but I don’t really remember them, only sort of through a fog. I was there, I know. In the Dolomites, hiking. The words, they touch here.”

Here’s that poem.

To Loved Ones

You worry, but old is OK
I know
I’ve been walking the old road for a while

Granted in old age I don’t have 
as many wild, crazy times
Jumping the waves at Jones Beach
Reaching the peak on the Sunrise Trail in Yosemite
Feeling the ancient limestone rocks crumble
Under foot in the Dolomites
Drinking beer and eating mussels in Italy

They were great times
As long as they lasted
Like polka dots on life

Sometimes now I hanker for more
Because real life
Can get boring
Can be heavy to bear
Sometimes disappointing

But then something happens 
The moon shines
A tree turns color
The waves keep rolling in

Magical stuff
It happens more as you get older
You see better
You hear better
Oh! Look at that!

Margie Karter
2014