The Sunday Poem: Teresa E. Gallion... Two Poems

The interaction between these two beautiful pieces is both heartfelt and somewhat mysterious.  Is this the same person?  Does one foreshadow the other?  The reader builds his own story guided by the tender reflections of a thoughtful life.

  Teresa E. Gallion has lived in Albuquerque, NM since 1987.  She completed her undergraduate work at University of Illinois Chicago and her Masters Degree in Psychology from Bowling Green State University in Ohio.  She retired from New Mexico state government.  Her work has appeared in numerous journals and anthologies.  Her most recent book is Contemplation in the High Desert (quatrains inspired by the poetry of Rumi).




Death is a Stone

Death is a stone
polished to perfection.
At the bottom of the river
a courtship with sand
does such things.

That’s what you tell me
the day you fall off the mountain.
You slide down its ruffled side
bump through stones,
twigs, branches and brush.
Sand moves with your weight.
You hit the arroyo on both knees.
A prayer of pain soaks bloody sand.
My dog snuggles you in warmth
while I run like hell to get help.

Why did you tell me such nonsense?

You raise your eyebrow to salute me.
As we sit on the couch, you say,
I told you the nonsense to distract
myself from the pain
and to give you the kick in the butt
you needed to calm down.

I smile and slap him gently
upside the head.  Two broken arms
and two broken legs,
he cannot swing back.




Touch of Earth and Memory Pauses

Strained sunlight embraces the patio.
Fluid images make waves in my cup
as I sip morning coffee.
Your special chair glows
in the early earnest light
missing you as much as I do.

I roll memories on rose petal leaves,
seriously saturated green, like velvet,
draws me to touch your flowers
stored in my grieving garden.
A disconnect between real and illusion
flirts with my emotions.

I wander around
this spacious and sparse landscape
without the melodious movement of your voice.
Grief gathers momentum in my chest
seeking release to move on.
The live, let go ritual stirs in the soil.

I roam the garden
bestowed from your hand
searching for a standardized release.
Whispers in my ears say,
this is part of the healing process.




Poetry submissions are welcome.  Email theditchrider@gmail.com.

 

Also, a great big note of Thanks to Rich Boucher for editing this column during my month-long  absence! 

Views: 147

Comment by Jules Nyquist on July 1, 2012 at 11:27am

Teresa, your poems are eloquent and mesmerizing. I especially like the last stanza of Death is a Stone. Both have great imagery.

Comment by Dee Cohen on July 1, 2012 at 3:22pm

Your poems always find needed connections to the natural world that give the reader a more expansive view. I'm always more centered after reading or hearing one. Thanks, Dee

Comment by Margaret Randall on July 1, 2012 at 4:22pm

These are beautiful. It was especially good to read the first one after spending the week in a hospital with my partner. We think of death and danger in a different way in places like that.

Comment by Merimee Moffitt on July 1, 2012 at 4:31pm

 Gorgeous--both so real and tactile and passionate.  I really like the pair of love poems, with absence in between.  The grief in the garden poem is so beautifully spoken and felt.  Damn!  You rock!!!  So full of life, joie d'vivre even in grief. 

Comment by Teresa Gallion on July 2, 2012 at 10:48am

Thank you all for the kind words.  I am humbled by your responses.  Most appreciated.   Blessings.

Comment by Rich Boucher on July 3, 2012 at 7:55am

Beautiful!

Comment by Georgia Santa-Maria on July 18, 2012 at 12:24pm

Lovely, Teresa--thanks for sending. I especially like the balance between fear and playfullness in the first one--but they are both gorgeous.

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