Poem Published in the “Poets Choice” book, On Nostalgia.
I have been trying to pinpoint what happened.
what happened? what changed? what dampened
inside?
and then I remembered my grandmother’s voice –
the way i’ll never hear it say
something new
and oh, how I hated summer camp –
the way I’ll never hate something so simple, so drenched
in sunlight
again
for years, I could only sleep
if tucked in my mother’s bed.
because the ceilings were too high
and that scared me
because the sky was too tall
and that made me cry
I remember how precious it was,
potions, surprises, playdates, and
poetry – before i knew what poetry was.
i longed to be older
prayed to be prettier,
now i’m older and prettier,
but it’s vulgar and strange
now i’m older and prettier
but homesick as ever, for a place
that no longer exists
for a house, uprooted
for a voice, buried
now i’m that age i’ve been chasing,
gripping onto every grasp
of stubborn, dusty time
before it passes me by
again
i have been trying to pinpoint what happened.
what happened? what changed? what dampened
inside me?
only nothing happened
that didn’t happen
to everyone else
only nothing changed
that didn’t change
for everyone else
somewhere between then
and now
we grew up.