We put the eternal flame to sea--a candle lit from a gas jet
sealed in a jar and tossed--Maria set it down, really--
sealed in a jar and tossed--Maria set it down, really--
into the scrim of water on the beach.
To sea with the idea of eternal vigilance.
To sea with the idea of loyalty to a campus.
As if, in the years to come, we'd look backwards
to the limestone walls, to the hidden patio on the roof,
to the eternal flame they'd just repaired
the summer before we arrived in the dorms,
to the basement room with all the mattresses,
to the first time we were faced with _______,
each of us keeping silent as we remember.
How long will a candle last on the shore?
How long will friendship tether a girl?
So...yeah. Not sure where the above came from. My school years were pretty calm and they're long past, anyway. But there's something fragile about vigilance, an exhaustion already baked into the word.
Surely we've all had enough of that, though. Sharing this week with The Sunday Muse and Poets and Storytellers United.
-- Chrissa
Some memories we hold are truly vigilant. I feel that radiate from this beautiful poem Chrissa! Your after note is just as poetic. Wishing you a lovely and hopeful weekend my friend.
ReplyDeleteWonderful, Chrissa.
ReplyDeleteNotes as intriguing as the poetry ... love the questions which may in fact have no answers.
ReplyDeleteTo sea with the idea of eternal vigilance.
ReplyDeleteTo sea with the idea of loyalty to a campus.
So much that young hearts could hope for in an adult world of conflicts much worsen by the pandemic.
Hank
I like the opening ambiguity of "to the first time we were faced with _______," our minds start filling in the blanks.
ReplyDeleteMaybe ten minutes from the last glimpse in the rear view mirror? Maybe a lifetime? Probably somewhere in between? I still think of college, but mostly either in connection with a book or something I learned, or else a stab of shame over something I regret or failed to do. I'm sort of "Chelsea Hotel" about it. Love your poem, Chrissa.
ReplyDeleteYour poem is a bit enigmatic, but evocative nonetheless. May the flicker of hope burn brightly!
ReplyDeleteFilling in the blanks is a task we will always find along the msterious adventury that is life's journey. Happt Sunday Chrissa
ReplyDeleteThank you for dropping by blog today
Much💗love
O Chrissa I like this, even little shiver. Looking backwards helps keeping the candle lighted. And always now enjoyed, even some that were rough. I too have some "take-to-the-grave" memories that I've not told. Depends on who all I outlive for what goes into my memoirs. I've not forced anyone and have always been true to marriage. But girls/ladies have in general liked me. And I like them, my started memoirs runs that vein. First encounter, like a kid who has never known a puppy, when my 'girl friend' invited me to accompany her into the storm cellar I came trotting down. I don't tell, I'll not forget (wasn't sex).
ReplyDelete..
The past is an enduring mystery. We can never be sure what we think we're looking at was actually there, or whether the mirror of our subsequent experiences, desires, stances, has distorted it. A thought provoking poem, skillfully presented.
ReplyDelete"How long will a candle last on the shore?"
ReplyDeleteA nod to how tenuous life can be.
Love your poem. Time changes us and perhaps even changes our perception of a familiar memory. Love poetry that makes me think!
ReplyDelete