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Renaissance

for Rob Salminen

I am as old as I have ever been,
And I’ve not seen all that I’d hoped to see—
But every day my life begins again,
And I’m as young as I will ever be.

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Lost and Found

a pantoum

It’s hard to say for sure.  It’s been so long.
I’m pretty sure that I’ve been here before.
The paint is peeling and the color’s wrong,
And there were flowers growing by the door.

I’m pretty sure that I’ve been here before.
What matters is that I was there with you,
And there were flowers growing by the door,
And I could do the things you couldn’t do.

What matters is that I was there with you.
It’s hard to be alone when you are old.
And I could do the things you couldn’t do,
And you had stories itching to be told.

It’s hard to be alone when you are old.
The house is big and empty, now as then,
And you had stories itching to be told:
“I’ll tell you something.  I remember when…”

The house is big and empty, now as then.
The paint is peeling and the color’s wrong.
I’ll tell you something—I remember when—
It’s hard to say for sure.  It’s been so long.

.

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Benjamin Daniel Lukey lives near Monroe, North Carolina. He teaches high school English classes whenever he is not fishing or writing poetry. His new collection, What We Leave, is available now in paperback and on your Kindle device.

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5 Responses

  1. David Whippman

    “Lost and Found” is a well-written and very poignant piece. Thank you Daniel.

    Reply
  2. Roy Eugene Peterson

    These are two precious melancholy poems both evoking my sentimental senses.

    Reply
  3. Gigi Ryan

    Dear Daniel,
    Each of these poems reminds me to appreciate the gift of today. Thank you.
    Gigi

    Reply
  4. Cynthia Erlandson

    Your pantoum is truly beautiful. It seems the perfect form for expressing these these sadly nostalgic kinds of thoughts; the repetitions, I think, echo the patterns our minds go into when we have remembrances of past times that were beautiful in their own ways but make us grieve now. “What matters is that I was there with you”, and, “And I could do the things you couldn’t do” is, for me, the most moving line, picturing for me the last decade or so of my mom’s life, when dad was doing all the things she couldn’t do, which made him very tired; yet he wishes he still had her there to keep on doing those things and caring for her, in order to have her company. Thank you, Benjamin.

    Reply

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