Where are you now?
Walking along a beach,
the turnups of your jeans
brushing the ends of the day from the waves?
Where are you now?
Walking on Hampstead Heath,
taking a look at the old gypsy caravan,
going out to the street?
Where are you now?
Dining with an old friend, a potter,
beautiful duchess of antique rose?
A small porcelain bowl on my dresser.
In outline, female arms lifted in supplication,
inside, my ring and earrings when I go to bed.
Where are you now?
Where are you now
looking out of my window?
Where are you now
as I go about my day?
Where are you now
as I live out this time of my life?
My Memory A poem dedicated to Thelma
Noel Canin Mar 01, 2009
For Thelma Marcuson
Where are you now?
Walking along a beach,
the turnups of your jeans
brushing the ends of the day from the waves?
Where are you now?
Walking on Hampstead Heath,
taking a look at the old gypsy caravan,
going out to the street?
Where are you now?
Dining with an old friend, a potter,
beautiful duchess of antique rose?
A small porcelain bowl on my dresser.
In outline, female arms lifted in supplication,
inside, my ring and earrings when I go to bed.
Where are you now?
Where are you now
looking out of my window?
Where are you now
as I go about my day?
Where are you now
as I live out this time of my life?