Archive for the ‘Exposure’ Category

1983-02-07 Gerda’s Knife

Monday, February 7th, 1983


                           Gerda's Knife

      I watched 'Winds of War' on TV 
      and then I turned out the light
      And, on the stairs, in the dark, ascending
          I suddenly saw your father's knife as 
        it hung in your bedroom.

      Its white metal patient 
      these many years
      since another sun shown on it
          in the days of the German Reich.

      I could hear flags whipping, 
     red and black,
      against the green of trees
         and the gray of building stones

      And, for a moment, 
     I felt the eyes of countless men
      as their hands caressed 
     the handle's symbol
      reveling in the power and purpose 
     of their God given cause.

      and then, these many years later, 
     through chances too rare to say,
      I came ... and found it there in your room
         waiting patiently 
        through all the years of my childhood.

      A time machine 
     from another reality.
      A time that almost 
     changed my world.

      I look at old photos now, 
     black and white,
      and their images seem 
     so distant and unreal to me.
            
  but with your father's knife
        I could still hear the flags snapping
     in the fervent air of those years
        and I could feel the force of it all
      across the years.

                                    GALLAGHER
                                    7 Feb 83
                                    San Juan Capistrano

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

1983-03-12 – Rosemary; my mother’s sister

Saturday, March 12th, 1983

All these photograph faces swimming bye
moments captured forever.

They laughed at the camera so alive,
and yet they were so frail
compared to these paper traces
they’ve left.

Each one I throw away hurts.
I think, that with a motion,
I may be disconnecting the last memory
of someone who loved,
someone whose blood flows in mine
someone with a lifetime of experiences
gone forever now…
because no one remembers their name.

I threw away a weathered envelope,
circa 1920, whose contents had been lost
in the photograph box’s mess.
I remember there was written on it
‘Via con Dios’ in someone’s handwriting.

And then there was Rosemary; my mother’s sister.

I felt grief when I read this child’s card,
who is dead now these 40 years
when she writes from the hospital
that she’ll be home soon
in a child’s scrawl.
But she never returned.

Barely begun … and then done.

And when I drop this card
into the trash,
washed away forever.

I threw that card away three times
and took it back again.

12 Mar 1983
San Juan Capistrano

 

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

1983-04-03

Sunday, April 3rd, 1983

Lying there beside her, I smell her skin, the warmth of her
I see, or imagine, in the gray light, the wrinkles
I've put there and I feel the storm of our lives

She's told me her period's wrong and that her breasts hurt.
For months we've tried to conceive
and come to this.

I put my hand on her back beneath the covers
intimate against her sleeping
I would know her skin anywhere.

I begin to feel age and our mortality.
Even now my body says I press too hard
that I cannot become what I once was.

And she who grows more precious to me each year
grows more ripe for He who reaps us all.
I touch her back and feel her breath ... in this moment.

Gallagher

3 April 83, SJC


— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —