Monday, 27 May 2013

Calendar Sheets

As June approached
I thought of her more often -
as has become the way of it -

though each year,
the reflection dims somewhat.

Do other people, I wonder,
swirl through sad anniversaries
in gusts of memories,

that slowly quell, 
with the softening of time

like calendar sheets
blowing in the wind,
in an old monochrome movie:

The million dreams and plans
hatched on front steps
(flutter of calendar sheets)

The endless summers 
of swims and bike rides
(flutter of calendar sheets)

The pizza sleepovers . . .
and dances . . . and dates
(more calendar sheets).

When I last spoke with her -
on that June blue sky day -
shortly before she passed,

she told me that she felt,
more and more,
like a tree standing by the water:

fighting to stay - struggling to stay -
and yet, drawn to the perfect peace
of letting go and surrendering

to blessed rest . . . . .

And so she rests -
her ashes cast upon water -
as was her wish

as the calendar sheets fall, 
in sleepy sputtered zig-zags,
and mark the days

that pass without her . . . . .

photo:  Tree Standing by the Water - W. Bourke

© 2013 Wendy Bourke


  1. warm words.... I liked the way you put that feeling with those fluttering calendar sheets...

  2. Thank you so much. I really appreciate that you took the time to comment. I'm a bit of a techno-goof with all things computer, but I moil on - very slowly - creeping up that learning curve. Your poetry, by the way, is lovely.