LIMERENCE

Why am I feeling all this great emotion?

Perhaps I am thinking of poor Mary,

Moving away after so long living

In a quietly familiar and convenient place.

Mary, audibly rocking and rocking in the

Same chair above me as she aged into invisibility…

And soon I too will leave this same place.

For how long did I live with illusions,

Locking away all transitory possibilities

And realities and choosing instead to

Dwell inside mercurial fantasies and

Interior delusions and then grounding a still life?

Now the fading obstacles hardly matter.

The grey heavy details carved and set in stones

Have been kicked away by newer shades

Of sharp pastels that do not even belong

To me in my particular smallness.

Fog is moving in from the Hudson River,

Passing over yesterday and all the

Layered stories and everything

That came… before.

© Marjorie J. Levine 2020