Poetry – Footie, I am 6

Originally posted May 16, 2018.

Dedicated to Jo, my mom

Footie, I am 6

I once thought life was a daring adventure.

I once lived near a green grassy field. I stretch both arms up to the bright sun...

laughing & reaching for a butterfly….

I look in the mirror. Who is that face? Death is reclaiming me to the grassy field.

I once loved to wear pink lipstick and backless high heels, clickety-click. I’m in a large ballroom, my gown is tight and shiny. I laugh and dance to the music..the foxtrot…the room is crowded with people I know…

Past images seen through a misty glass…

I sense you in the room. I hug you, I sense how we once were, how we are now. But when you’re not here, you fade. And I fade, too. You hold together the collage of my self. When I am alone, the collage shifts.

I once traveled the world, so exciting and new, open-eyed.

Today...what I know about today, is the way the sun dapples on the carpet through the window, how a bird comes to the feeder to eat and the trees stand tall and green.

I know I won’t know you, soon.

Fear and disappointment course through me. What’s this unnatural thing? I want it to stop.

Sometimes I wake, the night is frightening.

I see creatures in the shadows. They are alive and moving towards me.

I cower and rage against the dark monsters.

Other times I wake, my emotions crowd me. Fleeting sparkling pictures flickering and I strain to see.

They slip away.

I am afraid of tomorrow.

I once felt safe in my home in the storm.

Don’t you love me enough to take me into your home? Am I not loved? Am I not a person who should be loved? I am careful with my feelings. I learn to be stored away, out of sight.

I once looked towards the future, anticipating exhilarating adventures.

I am 6.

Mama, this is my doggie, his name is Footie. I love him. Mama, do you see Footie? Mama, let’s rub his one white foot. Mama, he has one white foot! Mama, see! Mama, I love him.

You bring my little dog to visit, I hold him. I hold him, the memories come back.

I remember what it’s like to have him. I hold him. He's warm and fuzzy.

I want to walk him.

I am 92.

When you leave, I can’t remember the color of his fur. Can I keep him here? He would protect me from the dark shadowy creatures that come in the night.

Life disappoints me.

It’s not a daring adventure.

I once looked forward to every sunny day.

Now every sunny day shows me what I am not.