When I Do

27. brendon-thompson-581516-unsplash

When I Do


Mor-Mor warmed up the pie

And served it à la mode

I can still smell it now

And the coffee

That overflowed the white, small cup

When she poured the cream in


The past is exactly as it seems

But it keeps changing in my mind

Mostly I see it less

And less clearly

Or I am blinder to what it always was

Because I am at a loss here

But there is no need to fear

For you are still

The most ancient part of me


Sometimes I think

About the changes we made in our kitchen

Over time

The summer we painted all the walls

A terrible blend of orange and lime

You always loved bright colors

Unlike your mother

Who loved plain and simple

White and blue

You loved a mess

She preferred a tidy, antiseptic feel


I love a hotel room

Because there’s nothing there

To steal

Though sometimes I wish I could

At least

Steal back my younger heart

Where I cared about music

Dance, people, art

Now I search the present

Look toward the future

And mine the past for what I can use

To soothe me

The past is sutured to me

With stitches I can’t remove

Without opening scars

That are hardly visible

Perfectly smooth


I wish I hadn’t thought of you

This morning

The day already turned itself around

And I can feel the trenchant warning

Of the wave that comes to drown me

In your absence


By Julie Flanders

Photo by Brendon Thompson






About octoberprojectmusic

Julie Flanders Marina Belica Emil Adler
This entry was posted in October Project, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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