So I don't think I've ever used this journal as a forum for my more legitimate creative exploits, but I wanted to reflect on going to a reading and book signing of Sharon Olds. She's one of my favourite poets, and in 2006 I staged several of her poems for my senior project.
I did share with her, however, that I only got a "D" on it. A reflection, perhaps, of my work, but not hers.
Details aside, because it's way past my work night bedtime, I wanted to write a poem back since she wrote so many that have moved me. Copyright me, et cetera, et cetera.
"I Go Back to October 2008"
You looked nothing like the headshot I knew
The angles of your face sharply pronounced and enunciated;
A brunette at most in grey scale.
Perhaps it's the you at what you feel is your best - or more likely,
The first picture stumbled upon and distributed.
“She must be older by now,” I thought aloud to my
reluctant escort. “Her parents were married in 1937.”
What an odd detail to know of a complete stranger.
Even with a picture in the back of my mind,
I did not expect the you at the podium.
Feelings don't have faces.
These words, although fleshed in my own
creative fancy, now had a voice, a shell, a host.
You are still in grey scale,
But have none of your former sharpness.
Your cheekbones soft, complacent where once
They were gaunt with your long kept silence.
The release has seen you well.