twenty-five years since I wrote what I know
about your ear, and the scar by your eyebrow—
what has changed now? not predicting what you’ll say
or the plaid and check shirts in shades of blue; not
my assuming the promise of your arms but

I hardly know myself in a photo ten years old
nor remember the clothes, shoes, hair—
what I might have said there to tide another day
and another, these eroding surfaces
we call trust, comfort, habit, love

what endures? and if the core remains
unknowable? yet as worth writing about
as when we were new to ourselves, to each other

19 thoughts on “Guesswork”

      1. Yes. And not only those other people you were, but those other people that your loved ones, for instance, were. Sometimes things go in step with your new persona, and sometimes not. Is it all right to be sad if it isn’t a lifelong harmony? or is that denying the laws of change or defining them as good only as they benefit you? I have thought about this a lot recently (you may be able to tell).

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  1. People often talk in terms of solid continuity and we do have some feelings of continuity…for me, your poem also captures an ephemeral aspect of experience — the fading and changing of what was…a thoughtful piece.

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      1. Your response has made me pause and consider…disorientation…definitely part of my experience as much as any ‘orientation’ that has occurred along the way. Things are often not what they seem to be..and then they shift….

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  2. your poems, as here, paint the outline yet with depth and breadth – the flavor and cognizance and acceptance and cherishing of the familiar – how love is composed not (just) of fire, but of the cool, comfortable and comforting silence two might share from long acquaintance – that I don’t, though that makes me not envious, but glad to know it yet exists, for you (it would appear), and one can hope, others ~

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