Thursday, January 17, 2008

Watermelon: A Glimmer of Hope

A Glimmer of Hope
by Eve Coleman, 1992

Okay, maybe,
Just maybe
I’ve been looking
at the shoes
all wrong.

Perhaps they’re
Not worn out.

Perhaps once more
I can replace the
Heavy woolen socks
With watermelon shoes.

So what if the shoes
Are a little worse for wear?
Fading semicircles
Are barely discernible
To the casual eye.

Few really look
Beneath to see
The worn out sole

And those who do
Are content to see
A hint of what once was--
Bright green rind
Cushioning hot pink fruit.

Those who do
Look beneath the surface
Celebrate the sole below
Replete with rends and tears.

It is for them,
Those who
Celebrate my soul,
That I will drag
The well worn shoes
Around on wobbly legs
Until the cobblers tell me
They have sewn their last stitch.

Tuesday, January 8, 2008

Watermelon Shards

Watermelon Shards
by Jennifer Coleman, March 1994

I remember joining your hands together at the beach.
I remember hiding under a desk when you fought, which was never very often.
I remember Space Mountain, when she was so scared that she hid her head in my lap.
We were always together, family and friends forever.
Watermelon summers and fall nights passed away into years.

I remember the day, it wasn’t that far away,
When our glass world was shattered for the first time.
We cried together. He was my shelter--I had no other support that year.
We knew the time would pass, and summer came at last.

Watermelon days turned into fall nights, and we were, no, I was happy at last.
But she was in pain again, we didn’t know why.
I remember the day she couldn't get up, and all I could do was cry.
The glass shattered again, this time into tinier fragments.
The shards will never fit back together exactly the same.
I remember her state of shock the weekend the glass shattered,
But I was not near her.

We had separate plans, and to those we stuck.
She went one way and we went the other
I remember his support.
I never knew just how strong his shoulder was until
I had to lean on it to get through the day.
I remember how our words wrenched with sobs showed expression,
But the pictures from that weekend captured the moment.

Time moved on once again, and another Watermelon summer passed us by.
It was a golden summer, ironic that it should be so.
The questions we had we pushed into the back of our minds,
And she and I drank the Island’s fine wine.

Watermelon days turned into fall nights,
And we took our happiness where we could find it.
Winter settled upon us.
It has not been an easy one.
The shards of glass continue to break through her skin.

Will another Watermelon summer pass us by?
The shards are hidden, and we are uncertain where or when they will return.
Uncertain is an apt description of the newer lifestyles we have had to affect.
With the uncertainness in my step,
I seem to have prospered during these times of the shattered glass.

We take each day in stride,
And take chances,
And say I love you as if there will be no tomorrow.
Maybe there won’t be one.
If there isn’t, we have done everything right.
We have not held anything back, merely held on.
Winter days are fading into spring breezes,
Which will soon turn into Watermelon days,
And we are still holding strong.