Dear you – for dVerse

Just to let you know
that I know
that this
will not be easy –
for any of us. Not
for you, and you
won’t protect us.

I’m here, in this home
that you don’t really
understand, and yet
you’ve passed on things
I like, so maybe
I underestimate you. Maybe
there is a wildness in you
that you’ve held tight inside,

maybe that wildness
is the thing that will
cling on, that will
have to be
untangled, thread by
painful thread.

I am not blaming you.

Please know that. Even though
ours is a second step,
second hand love, it is still love,

and you are someone I would hold,

but maybe never know,
and maybe they don’t know you, either,
and maybe that’s the thing
that will cling on,
that will have to be

I am not blaming you.

I am just looking into
these next months, and
wondering what I’ll
have to do, how it will be,
when that first home
is emptied, becomes
just a set of rooms.

I’m going to sign off now,
reminding you I love you,
for the warmth of you,
and the laughter,
and the home you made,

and I will never blame you.


A letter poem for Bjorn at dVerse. 


11 thoughts on “Dear you – for dVerse

  1. Whoa. The other isn’t named here, and I think that helps the poem get around blame. What then is the issue? There is nothing more terrifying to the everchild within than abandonment. The adult voice here measures departure from the side of a certainty that it must and will happen. The speaker can’t protect that child, nor really wishes to, and yet is clear about the cost and voices it in terms that child will fully understand. That is adulthood, I think, precious and terrifying as it is: Full hearted. Can we ever truly send such letters? Do we ever stop writing them?


  2. This is a stellar poem.. .I love the way it can only mean something for the one who receives it… what has passed has passed, and it feels like acceptance of bridges that will never be mended (in full acceptance). I feel like eavesdropping…


  3. To the you, from the you (ourselves in perspective, but different time frame) is what I make of this. There is still love and care but so much things have passed on that maybe its too late.


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