At at the End


two notes with long fermatas
sitting on opposing staffs
they were like that
in a gray world of weary waiting

each day sunlight refracted through clouds
of time that held familiarity and terror
they passed each other in the markets
breathing the same heavy air

she dropped her glove; he found it
and kept it in his coat pocket
imagining its owner, as she pondered
its loss along with the others

both sensed the perilous times
both heard the plinking keys
plucking tunes from their hearts
giving them courage before

they were detained and taken away

© Gay Reiser Cannon * 4.23.2017

13 thoughts on “At at the End

  1. Sarah I just read your very touching poem Denouement; I can’t find where to write comments on your blog. I want you to know I thought the texture of the poem was in the emotion and in the details. It felt very modern while still being quite poetic. You didn’t pull the pain away but you left a bit of comfort for the reader and for the speaker of the poem. It was lovely.

  2. I’m going to add something that might place this poem in perspective. (I’m not sure a poet should do that but…oh well, here’s to breaking rules!) Today people who have lived in our country for a decade or more but are not naturalized citizens are quietly being picked up and put in internment camps..they are really jails. Some are being separated from their children who are left alone. It isn’t making headlines anymore but it is happening…in my state of Texas and all over.

  3. Intensely beautiful and aching. I especially love the music metaphor that adds to the emotion. We just can’t let opportunities pass us by, especially when we are older. I’m always to happy to see you.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s