Oh, Lavender Heart

(A poem inspired by Emily Webb’s last monologue in the play Our Town by Thornton Wilder)

Standing inside my childhood,

it’s different than earlier

How the cows are planted along the turning green fields

like raisins on salad.

“Oh, earth, you’re far too wonderful for anyone to realize you.”

Oh, line of light that takes a seat between the blue of Colorado

and the summer’s green.

Oh, small world of my childhood, how I’ve forgotten.

I fold up oxygen, fill pockets with handfuls of air,

for the hush and the hurry

Swallowed by the contrast,

by the opposite of Here.

And when I’ve dissolved into the world, I’ll discover:

last pages, and last lines, and last words,

they count for something.

“I should have listened.”

Creaking around the couch,

the afternoon light and I spy on you.

Your breath presses against cushion,

your soft snores settle against room, and I listen.

I finally listen.