dave sloan - poem


Still Trying

In third grade they said I was gifted
Gave me my own teacher
From that day I was alone
I walked from school 
Kicking through piles of fallen leaves
Watched them fly
Dance, fall back into the gutter 

I listened to the bells chime each day at three
They were not Church to me
I knew nothing of Church
The chiming 
Carried across the sky
Through the outstretched tendrils of naked trees
To my solitary walking
And kicking
Connected me to the place of mystery
Where our yearnings were born
And where all loss resides 

Energy is conserved
Nothing can be lost, utterly
Simply removed
To some other place
The place of mystery
Where loss lives in union
With the beauty of the chimes 

Some bully came one day
This is my street
You can't walk this way
Anymore
I was afraid not to hit him
I had been taught
You let them run you off one street
They'll simply run you off the next
And this was the street
With fallen leaves 
In piles cresting high above the gutters
And the chimes 

I was frightened, he was stronger
He would get me eventually
Pretending to kick a rock
I crossed to the left side of him
Because I was left handed
And I did not want to miss 

I did not miss 

We fought even
He said things
And left
I tried to send the sickness of it
To the place with the chimes
And the loss 

Today I heard them ringing
Carried across the grey, winter sky
Across the tops of small houses
Through the naked trees
I was taken to that place again
I saw the birthing of my dreams there
It was good
To see that boy dream 
Of creating beauty
And know that thirty years later I still care enough to try
Of course I saw a lot of loss as well
Like you, I've seen so much of what I've loved 
Removed to that place 
The hardest thing, though
Harder than the loss of
Love's first tenderness
Harder than the loss of 
Time
Ten thousand nights passed alone
Irretrievably lost
Harder
Was the sight
There in the place where all loss resides
Of that small left hand
Curled into a fist

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