“To know even one life has breathed easier
because you have lived,
this is to have succeeded.”
this is to have succeeded.”
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
Geographically distant
and yet still close
she consumes him vicariously
through his verse.
Her phone call spurs
a delicate dance between
more than friends…
but less than lovers.
Like honey dripping
on a Kalahari day
this easy banter dissolves
into an engaging waltz.
Reminiscing about another time,
another place, another poem,
they stroke the edges of
could be, what ifs, and perhaps.
With half his heart in far away Indy
he was lonely.
it wasn’t the country that was foreign
it was his life.
And she, a muffled secret;
her heart a shackled compromise
in the cargo confines
of a listing matrimonial ship.
She recalls that day at Stanley…
You hid on me in the crowd
only to reveal yourself
in a burst of heartfelt joy
beaming through the laughter in your eyes.
Needs being met, hearts seeking refuge,
respite from seclusion,
they were poetry pondering the pen,
on the plains of solitaire.
Copyright © Henri Ferguson 2005
All rights reserved.
Author notes
It never ceases to amaze me how a creative muse manifests in my mind. A simple phone call from a long time friend triggers memories that flood my mind with vivid emotions of what at the time seemed like a rather innocuous moment. Years and miles later and perhaps a more objective perspective allows me to put all that into verse. In gratitude for those times, the walks, the talks and the comfortable silence, I dedicate this poem to you.
Always,
Henri
Written February 1st, 2005
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