Poem: Friday Brought the D's

Leaving home and reminded that nobody much has noticed . . . except when they do, which is bliss.

Friday Brought the D's An aimless emptiness over time, from day to day down six flights in this land where six floors are called five To my sullen mailbox mocking and empty, reminding me of the forgetfulness that comes after a death or having left a homeland Gone is gone, dead or on a plane The mourning stops sooner than we would know or would care to know The newness has worn off of this departure and the gush of lettered interest fades to a trickle and now at last, a drip On Friday the waters all rose at once Spring’s melting snowpack that sent me scrambling for high ground, six flights up to five to worry open all the D’s Dennehy, Derleth, Detman and Dawn These clustered lines from my address book It must be, a continent away a springtime recollection of aunts and uncles dead a laying of flowers on parents graves and letters to that guy who left An alphabet is left, the A’s and M’s of other friends I wonder if they’ll come in O’s and R’s or come at all

This poem is included in Jim Freeman's poetry collection BROKEN PIECES available here in print or as an e-Book in your favorite formats.