On Leaving

Mark Rothko -  en.wikipedia.org

Mark Rothko   en.wikipedia.org

always leaving
Always emigrating
saying good`bye to walls
where other pictures hung
before we hung up ours
and others will hang
when we finish

coming going
a log`book of hours
without much annotation
beyond the name of a client
a time of an appointment
and a phone`number
out of service
here now

children gone
out into the world
by way of some university
The phone call on a birthday
a job offer in a far off city
Home for a holiday
and then again

the last leaving
Spirit bidding adieu
to the body it called home
for so many forgotten years
We are sojourners at last
migrants living loving
leaving for places

                                  ” . . . then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.” ~ John Keats


About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
This entry was posted in free verse, poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to On Leaving

  1. rivrvlogr says:

    With no forwarding number. ;)

    Liked by 1 person

  2. thefeatheredsleep says:

    Can relate to this like it were my own DNA. Thought so much the same many, many times. So well said my friend, you write as always, beautifully and this in particular just sunk a familiar stone in my gut. I too have left many times, some in emotional sense, some physical, each time, as you say, it’s like immigrating away from yourself. The idea of ‘wherever you go, there you are’ is true, but it’s equally true that we lose little parts of us when we take leave


    • Thanks for the gracious comment. Yes, whenever we leave, a mysterious part of us remains behind – it is our loss and the source of our grief . . .

      Liked by 1 person

      • thefeatheredsleep says:

        Very true. A bit like our being energy and energy not dying but being transformed. Maybe the ‘energy’ of an experience or time in life, remains behind, an echo of what happened, like a ghost but less negative, something we recall and tap into like a call from the past, sometimes as a warning, other times bitter sweet, those tapestries beneath the obvious. Your writing seems to be able to effortlessly find such things and write about them, you never disappoint you have such a quality about your words I find very addictive.

        Liked by 1 person

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