In a windowed enclosure
protected from toxic fumes
encircled by the low hum of idling cars
a sound occasionally punctuated by
the grind of an old starter
I wait.
I’m trying to read Natasha Trethewey’s
Native Guard, listen with my inner ear
to the sorrow of sleeping through your death
intimated in her ‘Myth’ when
I’m startled by reality’s intrusion
as the long armed steel barrier
hits the thin walled enclosure
propelled by my car
here driven by the attendant
Thwack! be in the now!
She finds me, with frantic eyes
concern painted all over
seeping into the tiny crinkles of her young face
in her apology she intimates
I may want to strangle her
for the collision of steel
there’s violence in both acts.
I think: whatever for?
shocked by her suggestion of harm
accidents happen
(inner ear attuned to the echo of pain)
(flashes of memory)
if she knew me she’d know
I mean this.
She is tentative, contrite
shoulders hunched forward
and then a hoarse whisper
I have to lean in to hear her over
engines and customer chatter
perhaps punitive retribution is required?
no, I don’t want to speak to her boss.
With her livelihood at stake,
shaking from the impact
her form folds further inward
she is on the verge of tears
or flight, now louder ‘I am so sorry.’
And so am I –
how did we get to this place?
I’m not angry
I want to touch her,
assuage her fears,
to reach out and reassure her
and I’m standing so
close to make sure I can really hear.
But we’re in a box –
an employee and a customer
at Air Care Colorado
it’s 8:00 on a chilly morning:
is this done?
I decide to do it anyway,
to embrace her
she sighs, I sigh.
We both want the reassurance
that what separates us is so much smaller
than what connects us.
As I manage the details
we hug again
I hear nothing in that moment.
She thanks me for being human.
I am grateful to her for the opportunity
to share love and compassion
in the sacred space of our commonality,
amidst all the noise
surrounded by what could so easily kill us.
Written for a prompt Wordsmith Wednesday found here http://liv2write2day.wordpress.com/2011/10/12/wordsmith-wednesday-sensory-description-hearing/
Chromapoetica 
That was an amazing poem, tore at those heart strings.
Justin, it’s a poem that has taken a while to become fully formed but the experience deserves an amazing poem so thank you for the acknowledgment.
You tell this story so well– your feelings, her feelings. The lines
“We both want the reassurance
that what separates us is so much smaller
than what connects us.”
–so incredibly profound. This was a story that needed to be told.
Thank you I appreciate your visit; I enjoyed learning more about your poetry yesterday.
What an amazing piece! This really moved me.
Thanks Mama Zen, it was quite touching to live through.
reminds me of the opening scene of CRASH:
It’s the sense of touch.
What?
Any real city, you walk, you know?
You brush past people.
People bump into you.
In L.A., nobody touches you.
We’re always behind
this metal and glass.
I think we miss
that touch so much
that we crash into each other
just so we can feel something.
Yes, I could see that, thank you for sharing the quote :).
I copied of a screenplay transcript online, so that your readers who didn’t see the movie could share what I was talking about.
I love reading screenplays; I own several but didn’t know you could find transcipts online that’s great to know, thank you!
Anna, I so resonate with this one(or should it be the other way around?) Service sector employees are treated so often as subhuman that after awhile they either become sullen and closed, or insecure and fraught–and I suppose this is a common state in many working situations sadly. But I spent twenty minutes at the Wal Mart the other day talking to the very old woman who is their greeter, who stands for hours on her old bones, and whom everyone passes as if she is so much artificial ficus. And I gave her a little pat–I don’t know which of us felt better. Love this poem, especially the last lines with their double punch.
Of course you did and this is one of the reasons we are friends :)! Thank you for catching the double meaning in the last lines – the fact that you stopped in today (after OLN!) to comment on a rewrite I’ve done for Victoria’s prompt is another reason I regularly tell anyone who’ll listen how wonderful you are.
This brought me close to tears. If only everyone could learn to respond in such a way we wouldn’t be so full of bitterness, even hatred. This is such a good example of the healing power of touch as well as the maturity to prioritize what is important in life. I so much appreciate you and also, hedge’s comment. Make me feel hopeful. I’m so glad you linked this, Anna.
Yes, we make choices every day that affect others and ourselves deeply. Thank you for your most helpful prompt as it allowed me to rewrite using sound as a way to draw the reader further into the poem. I realized that I am so sensitive to noise that I tend to purposefully push it to the background to lower my stress level. This seemed like the perfect poem to rewrite and incorporate your suggestions into; a great prompt.
I also have a horrendous noise sensitivity. Last year my husband dragged me to a concert that was a take-off on Freddie Mercury (Queen). By the intermission, I was a wreck. Told David that if they need a replacement for water-boarding I had the perfect solution.
I can relate ever so much; I try to avoid concerts at all cost (even when I love the music I can’t bear to be there). My home is extremely quiet (we live on two acres in the middle of the forest) so it makes everywhere else feel immensely loud.
Girl, this brought tears to my eyes.
You are such a GOOD person. I always thought I was, until I met you!! Now I’m taking back burner, but I think I can live with that, knowing that you are helping share the love. And more love is always a good good thing!
Thanks for letting me crash into your soul in cyberspace. Long may we be poetry bloggin’ buds!!
I too am very very averse to most noise. Must be the artist thing?
And please forgive me, I can’t resist this parting thought…. Looks like Victoria’s prompt is better than Victoria’s Secret!! 🙂 🙂
xo
Jannie, you should know my secret(s)! LOL
I can hardly breathe now, too much snickering, y’all should take your show on the road :).
Aww, Jannie that’s so very sweet! I hope we’ll long be blogging buddies too. Yes, the overexcitabilities as my GT teacher called them. I am awfully sensitive to smells, and the list goes on (may be why we become artists). Thanks so much for the lovely comment and laugh :).
*hug*
Big hugs back Janet :).
Victoria is a dear sweet lady and a wonderful writer too. Her biggest secret is what a true sweetie she really is, above and beyond what we already know of her.
How am I so lucky to have all you amazingly wonderful blogging friends??!!
I hear you on the smells too. Can’t believe I actually used to wear perfume and think it was okay. Yuck
good night!!
xo
Sweet dreams of platypuses in danse de caractère impersonating aardvarks (then you can write us a poem about it :))
A wonderful story. This is truly what means to be human, to be concern and seeing the other person! So different from the usual reaction of outrage and blame, and wanting compensation. None of that “someone must pay” attitude. This is the way to make things better after a near miss. Memorable definitely and something that needs to be told.
Thank you Ravenblack, yes seeing the other person is of the utmost importance. Diffusion always feels like the most humane response. I truly appreciate and look forward to your visits here :).
Anna…my goodness. This is so skillfully written, and it moved me so much. I think that some of life’s most important moments are ones like these…opportunities we have, to react in one way, or its complete opposite.
For part of my life, in a situation like this, I would react the way I thought I was “supposed” to react, even if i wasn’t truly angry. I had been raised with that, and it took time and example to change it. But, even with my thick head, I have learned over time that, the next mistake will probably be my own, and I will need the forgiveness I can give someone else right now. I’ve learned that the broken or damaged object, or ruffled feathers, can be repaired or replaced, but what I do in a given moment of choice, affects both me and the other person maybe for a long time to come. I have also learned that manufacturing anger, because I feel justified, or expected to, leaves a *real* anger that is hell to try to get rid of once it is there.
Well, listen to me, rattling on. All I meant was, I love this poem, and what it says, and how it says it, especially the ending. Sometimes, not often, I read a poem that I know will stay with me from then on. This is one of those.
Gosh, feel free to speak all you like here, I love long comments (especially when they’re full of wisdom and kindness as you’ve shown here). Choice is a huge part of living well for me, to take that moment to assess my true feelings and to choose my response not react, you’ve touched on this beautifully. I’m so happy to hear that you love the poem, it is my loving gift to that young woman and I wanted to give her something worthy.Victoria’s prompt showed me the way to improve it. Excuse me, I’m a bit choked up.
A wonderful poem, Anna…I can’t really add much more to what’s been said, but this resonated for me also. The times I’ve gotten into stupid road rage….over what? It’s nothing at the end of the day…you show such compassion to that young girl. For sure she was expecting vitriol to be directed at her. It’s like we are all in such a rush of busy lives and worries that we forget to show compassion to one another…your words touched me, thank you.
Thank you, wonderful that this resonated with you and you were touched. That vitriol is so pernicious, lovely to see you here again.
I love the way to bring what could have been a negative interation into the light of compassion.
An intimate and tender story, touchingly told.
Thank you Suzy I’m glad you were moved by it. So you know, this is not my poem for the Critique and Craft. Mere Beasts can found through the link at dVerse or on the side bar.
“in a windowed enclosure
protected from toxic fumes
encircled by the low hum of idling cars
a sound occasionally punctuated by
the grind of an old starter
I wait.”
Wow.
That is really really good.
Thanks Jesse; blame Victoria and her sound prompt :).
smiles. you warmed my heart with this…i am high empathy and love meeting new people and touching their lives…you are a good person…and thanks for prompting us to action as well
Thanks Brian, we all need warmer hearts :). Nudges toward action help us learn from each other.
Really loved the last verse..
again a fantastic write up 🙂
PS: visiting after a long time… hope u doing fine !!
Thanks Jyoti, it’s great to see you here again :)! I am well, how about you?
I am absolutely fine 🙂
just busy with college, studies n regular stuff
Tender piece, I love your reaction. Great job at illustrating her nervousness and fear- the body language and the symbols subtlety infused by particular words really notched up the tension, while taking us directly into the scene-thanks for sharing, great read
Thanks, there are additional elements that made this encounter one that crossed many divides. I’m glad to hear I managed to ratchet up the tension, it seemed necessary for an emotional poem.
passionate words…
how cool when everyone remains true and beautiful …
Thanks for sharing.
Thanks Morning, I’ll be around to read for the picnic tomorrow :). I’m looking forward to it.
This is a prime example of choices we chose to make that can and do affect others we interact with.
Your reaction was so kind and thoughtful and I’m sure very much appreciated too. Karma. You reap what you sow and, what you give out you get back.
A lovely, lovely read.
Thank you, I’m glad I could give you back a bit of the beauty I find at your site :).
silence and death,
these are powerfully sad.
deep and beautiful thoughts, bless all human lives.
🙂
Yes, we all need to acknowledge the divine within one another and respond in ways that don’t harm another’s dignity.
Amazing… it’s (this poem) completely true and pure…
Thank you for reading and responding; I look forward to reading your poem.
Helloo..wonderfully, atmospheric, sense compression, intrusion from sound, the sense of containment in your car, before the tactile pressure, the collision, and the deeper story of humanitarian love unfolds..beautiful..i had an experience, which since most people will have read this now, i’ll share..a few months ago at a pedestrian crossing in Guildford, a young girl went to step out in front of a fast moving large coach, i don’t why or how, it was like I was in a dream, without looking, or thinking, I just put my left arm out, across her chest and stopped her, awaking her from her own reverie…i only realised afterwards what I had done..she was in shock, i wasn’t, i was in some silent calm bubble, unattached to the noise & the other people, the crowd all around who were making a big fuss about it, & of me, for ‘saving’ her, it seemed as if everyone else was conscious & saw it about to happen, & I hadn’t but reacted from a deep place. The reason I share this, is because apart from saying thank you to me, she kept also apologising to me, which i couldn’t relate to, i just kept hugging her until she calmed down. My beloved explained to me later why she had reacted like that. Just something about your poem brought this up, and the sense that, ‘my’ young girl reacted scared too, with even less reason, it’s as if no one feels self to make very human mistakes, and not expect anger, harsh judgement in return…
Wow, that’s an incredible story and I know another reason we connect. How fortunate she was to have you near! Your response brought tears, and the saddest part is the expectation of anger. It’s like our rescue dog that was terrified I was going to hit him. Well, it didn’t take him too long to realize that’s not how we do things in our house. It was such a blessing to see him relax and settle in. To realize, yes there’s an expectation of behavior and boundaries but that doesn’t mean punishment and that he couldn’t set his own boundaries.
I’m very glad I shared that experience, yes it is so sad, these expectations of anger, this fear of judgement..and it is a gift to ourselves even I feel to give out understanding, empathy, and gentleness..but yes to set respectful boundaries too, look after ourselves too, learning that one! ..Your dog must be very happy to have finally found a real home…
what an amazing poem. I do so enjoy arriving here and reading your entries. I am so glad that I found your site and have read so much of your words so inspirational
http://gatelesspassage.com/2011/10/18/mirror-of-truth/
Thank you, your comment was lost in spam for some reason. I always appreciate your visits!
Your voice is candid, talking to yourself and the reader, making us a witness…this verse pulled me out of the poem and placed me back more deeply inside it: ‘We both want the reassurance /
that what separates us is so much smaller / than what connects us.’
Thank you, I truly appreciate your attention despite being so busy.
Thanks for sharing this experience in such a wonderful poem!
For me these ordinary, everyday surprising encounters with love and compassion
take us to our depths and you have captured this beautifully.