Poetry from the 3:15 Experiment: departing for Burning Man
Poetry from the 3:15 Experiment
Thurs. August 19, 2010
August is full of birthdays
for dead people now:
my mom, her dad, my dad’s dad.
The dates feel like a
dead fish staring me in the eye
the wheel still sharp, the
hook still digging into
In the night I am jolted awake.
It had to do with my mother
but the details are elusive, sketchy
& somehow comforting.
She had to dress for something
& I helped her
peach it was, a color for her father
Tears rolled down my cheek as
we said goodbye & she departed
for good
This time I think for Burning Man.
Wow, that was a wild 3:15 poem if I may say so my self! I wrote it on August 19, my father’s father’s birthday, which must have got me going in that direction, plus remembering that dream…
We’re not even going to Burning Man this year, but I have been thinking how much I want to go, especially to spend time in the Temple, to go and cry and grieve for my mother and Paul Squires aka GingaTao who died just before she did (July 28). Easy to imagine Paul going this year; he always wanted to and talked about it with me. Hard to imagine my mom going to Burning Man in this life as she hated camping and heat; she did love the wide open spaces of desert so this is the perfect time and place to go.
A Temple is a good place to cry in a Metropolis.
For more poetry, catch the Poetry Train.
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Love the rawness of your raw 3:15 poem, Gwen.