Thursday, June 12, 2014

Hitchhiking To Maine

Sometimes the words
Can drop, semi-syllables
Like small explosions
In an empty room.
A relationship can become
Mere arithmetic,
Subtracted then divided
Into a series of vocabulary,
Whispery-lyric in a dim-lit room,
Sunday crossword puzzle
Left undone,
Each empty square a sad eye,
Abandoned as the old backpack
He used to stuff
For three-day holidays
Meant only for me,
Then abandon in my laundry room
Like an unused dresser drawer.
I imagine him with it now,
Hitchhiker on a back country road
Throwing the withered army tote
Onto the backs of classic Harley’s
And vintage muscle cars,
Into the beds of hay-littered
Country pick-up trucks,
It’s pull-strings clutched
Like a lifeline between
His nicotine-stained fingers,
Yellow as the palest stars,
Pale the way his eye-whites
Have darkened, his liver sick.
Sometimes lost love just leaves,
Walks into the cemetery fog of night,
Sad and poetic, smelling of
Cheap alcohol and bar grease,
A stranger in old sneakers
And bell-bottom blue jeans.

Written for Poetry Jam.


  1. Your poem is like the lost love you described, Stacy, 'sad and poetic'. I wonder if we can ever see the ones we used to love as strangers though.

  2. Stacy, you have given a vivid picture of a lost relationship. Good-byes are hard, but sometimes in looking back one can perhaps see the clues to why it probably wouldn't have worked out anyway.

  3. the deconstruction of the relationship in this is very nice stacy...esp the vocabulary/unfinished crossword....those are all great allusions that really bring out why some fail, for sure.

  4. This is powerful and tears at the heart, what sadness lies just beneath the surface. Well done,

  5. Time to tidy up and get on. Let that "stranger" find another life to mess up. Great job.

  6. "Sometimes lost love just leaves,
    Walks into the cemetery fog of night,"...beautiful description of this parting forever and my favorite lines as well...

  7. ps--oOOo, you have a book on your side bar! Yay, as soon as I fill my piggy bank....

    1. aww...that is like the hugest compliment ever! i actually have a new one i'm releasing this summer. i will will mail it to you for free in exchange for a review. :) i'll be adding little quotes from all my reviews to the front of the book. interested??

    2. Definitely! My email addy is on my profile. I can't wait to read and review! This will be fun.

  8. Leaves a lot of questions unanswered.
    The fact that he is still so vividly around inside the words and sick and the reason why the bag was left in the laundryroom and the inclusion of the semi-cemetary and the...
    I suppose a good poem is not up front and blatantly obvious. Will closer reading reveal more you think?

  9. heh...well, he's sick because he drinks frequently...the bag was abandoned in the laundry room because he didn't take the initiative to unpack because the stay was always short. and the relationship was long distance. he leaves and hitchhikes away in the sad, foggy night...cemetery reflective of goodbye i think. except he didn't hitchhike, he drove away that final time but i had to put some extra pazazz somewhere. lol :)

  10. This is so stunning Stacy

    His nicotine-stained fingers,
    Yellow as the palest stars,
    Pale the way his eye-whites
    Have darkened, his liver sick.

    Favorite part wow


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