Week 5: Audience & Adult Memoir

Week 5: Audience & Adult Memoir



Writing is wicked and can be passionately true,
A writer writes for the reader; himself or you.

Dearest reader, I calm you and tell you no lies;
That the words here before you go together without ties.

This isn’t a poem, in me - a poet you‘ll not find.
This is a jubilee of the words that race in my mind.

***

The dog days of August brought us unbearable heat, temps in the 90’s; so damp with sweat that our clothes stuck to us and us to the couch. My phone vibrated and I had barely enough oomph to lift it to my ear. It was my sister, she was calling me from her vehicle parked out in my yard, she wanted to take my kids swimming for the afternoon. A towel in one hand and a swimsuit in the other, I sent them out the door.

***

Alone at last, for an hour or two;
Melted brain and mushy muscles, I had nothing to do.

The phone rang again, “hello?” “hello!”, this time for me.
Mustering my energy, I found the strength of ten hot wives - plus three.

A word can mean more then it’s intended, my dear.
Let me say again; though things may rhyme, there is no poetry here.

***

My swimsuit, my helmet and my mountain bike on the back; the Land Rover and I left the dogs behind as we set out. I drove for thirty minutes, made a call for directions, drove another fifteen miles past a fields of lupines gone to seed; parked and lifted the bike off the back. Strapping my helmet on; I pedaled and glided around corners and over hills with the breeze from the Atlantic keeping me cool. I saw the tall pole and all the little wooden signs marking the names of the camps down that drive; I made the right turn down the dirt path and journeyed to the end. Tossed my bike in the woods, waded into the ocean and swam thru the seaweed to the cliffs edge; the waves were rough but his hand pulled me up.

***

Light unveils what the darkness hides,
Summers are for loving, I was along for the ride.

Unspoken words rhyme in rhythm with the beats of the heart,
What God has brought together, let no man tear apart.

Truth is like the tide, it comes and it goes.
A love beyond the truth is a love that holds.

***

Sunset came quicker then ever before, speaking into the pink skies and hoping dusk stay out at sea; I stayed on the island as long as I could. Be it an uninhabited island, I enjoyed my time and desired to never return to the main land. If only I had brought my kiddos with me, I would have stayed - started over - just my family and I; the isolation would’ve be sublime.

***

Alone may mean that you are on your own,
But being on your own does not mean that you are all alone.

Time travels and if you don’t take the ride,
You are left in the dust with yourself to abide.

Roads dip and turn, and you may come to a rock or a bend,
You may struggle with the journey but don’t let it come to an end.

***

After tucking the kids into bed, I returned to the couch. I sat, listening to the hum of the fan, thinking of the cool ocean breeze; and imaging myself on the island, living on crustaceans, garden goods, and love. I was feeling like Arial the mermaid, wanting a life I couldn’t have. I flipped open the computer and opened up the word program; it was time to type. With my pointers on F and J, I stared at the blazing white screen for an hour; no words came. My phone vibrated, “hello?” “hello!”

***

This story has not ended, for it has yet to begin.
Parts and pieces float in the waters with us, ready to swim.

Fact or fiction, was this just a dream?
Pinch me, wake me, I’ll tell you what I mean.

Listen, dear reader, to the song deep inside…
Be brave, fear not and go along for the ride.