Skip to main content

FIRST DATE by Sheri Lindner


There are moments when we stand almost suspended in time…

… when we hold a silken cord that binds us to the past and connects us to a time that lies ahead, as yet unseen. 

Writing this poem was such a moment, as memory rushed in, of a time of quiet, pure sweetness one ordinary afternoon that imprinted itself on my heart, making that afternoon something far more than ordinary.   

The love that floated between us, like the steam rising from our hot chocolates, traveled the years, transforming with each place it touched. 

And now when that love is a gift to someone else, there is the silken cord, each fiber spun and strengthened by love, that I still hold.

First Date

You don’t remember our first date
but I do, you
in that kelly cabled sweater
that made your hazel eyes
as green as new clover.
We stroll through town,
find ourselves
at the corner European patisserie
nearly empty at this hour.
Across from each other
at a small round table,
there is nothing
pressing we have
to do this fine afternoon but
sip hot chocolate
and blot each other’s
whipped cream moustaches.
After, we stroll some more
until you tell me urgently
that you have to go.
There is no choice, nowhere to turn
but to duck around the next corner
and just go.
The cop does not have a sense of humor
and I’m guessing no small son
who has just shed his diapers
and drunk too much
on his first date with his mom.
Today you asked
her the question,
gave her the ring,
and I, who was her place holder,
remember that first date
that took up quiet residence
in your cells
and in mine.
                           
                                      October 14, 2010
Pictured is the author's son on his wedding day~




Sheri Lindner, Ph.D., a former teacher of English, and currently a clinical psychologist, is also a poet and essayist interested in the processes of development and maturation as they are reflected in Biblical stories and children’s literature.  Her writings have appeared in Jewish Currents, The Reconstructionist, Reconstructionism Today, Kerem, Jewish Women's Literary Annual, Poetica, Performance Poets Association Literary Review, Matzoh Ball Soup, Soul-Lit, The Ritual Well, and The New York Times.





~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~ 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

MY HEART SEEPS by Edith Lazenby

Courage is not only facing fear, but also looking past fear, to see what lies it tells and truths it saves...
Sometimes I sit at a computer in trepidation. The house trembles and I wonder what I will find. 
Truth is not a fact or a feeling. It may rest on love’s heart and walk with integrity. It may stand beyond humanity in ways we can only imagine. Truth can be solid as earth and fickle as wind. But a wind can know stillness and the earth can crack wide open.
Tonight I found a stillness in a crack and managed to balance there...


My Heart Seeps
by Edith Lazenby
I cannot hold on And I cannot let go. I walk a path I don’t know. I feel moonlight But cannot see Its orb midst The cloudy cold. My hands tremble. My eyes tear. My toes wriggle To grasp earth. I want to stand Tall in the light Yet fear shadows all. Inside I crumble Under the weight I cannot shoulder.

IMAGINE A WOMAN by Patricia Lynn Reilly

This poem invites you to look upon yourself with loving kindness…
Gazing at your own true reflection, you will discover that everything you have longed for “out there” is already within you! I invite you to love your creativity fiercely. Faithfully plant seeds, allowing under-the-ground dormant seasons, nurturing your creative garden with love and gratitude. In the fullness of time, the green growing things thrust forth from the ground. It's a faithful, trustworthy process. AND it takes time and patience.  Blessed is the fruit of your creative womb! I invite you to trust your vision of the world and express it. With wonder and delight, paint a picture, create a dance, write a book, and make up a song. To give expression to your creative impulses is as natural as your breathing. Create in your own language, imagery, and movement. Follow no script. Do not be limited by the customary way things have been expressed. Your creative intuition is original. Gather all of life into your inner c…

DEPRESSION by Veronica Carpenter

Depression
Here goes my vulnerability A heart on a sleeve The typical person who looks at me May not see the same me that I live with daily The mind in the air, swirling with possibility When the darkness rallies/gathers/swirls When I am left to solitude This paper-thin garb unzips Here comes depression          
No I don’t want to advertise So flash a smile Those who are close get to see Through the veil, it’s really not that thick Circumstances in life like to stab at the rib Stumble, fall behind the door Shut out the world Feelings well and weigh down Strength hidden deep in the core So deep that sometimes it’s forgotten Here comes the darkness My old friend Sweeping through my every move  Doubts, fears, un-named masked men Oozing like honey, sticking to everything
Patience is required to get on this ride There is a cycle but its pattern is unknown Slowly my gift will unwrap itself Stay on the path Coming back to that which never truly left me Just laid sleeping out of exhaustion from the fight Dormant in winter…