Thursday, January 23, 2014

Headline Poem 1/23/14 -- a shorthand goodbye

(Photo credit Yahoo News) 

My grandmother used to write in shorthand while talking on the phone. I had never seen that style of writing until a few days before she died. She wrote something on a piece of paper while in a hospital bed with a window view. We have yet to figure out what it says, but after reading today's headline about how the internet continues to help crack the code of a grandmother's notes before dying, perhaps I will try to solve our puzzle as well.  

a shorthand goodbye

there is something regal about the city in spring
she made it through the winter
she can do anything
eyes crystal, warm and clear, like looking at a painting, 
or the reflection in the mirror... 
my body is lying in a bed, but I am far from there
up at my house with the view, the most incredible view 
on the phone with a girlfriend
writing in shorthand
twirling my hair
making plans for a game of bridge
the windows are open
it is a balmy spring afternoon
the wind blows through
five weeks past my forty-fourth birthday 
I am young again
I have a room filled with jewels and clothes and a bathtub made for a queen
he treats me like a queen, though sometimes he has a wondering eye --
most men do
I am far from the room in which they all gather, 
staring at me, saying their prayers
I appreciate them, I hear them, I love them, and I will miss them
I am forty-four though, legs crossed, necklace dangling, laughing on the phone
doodling and taking notes
dating the conversation like I date everything else, documenting that I was here, and when...