M. As in Morrison, But Which Also Stands – For Emily

This poem was written by local actress/technician Stacy Sherlock when she heard about our poetry reading and vigil.

We walked slowly,
but with certain and steadily paced footing.
Your heart beat faster than the steps required.
It made me nervous
I clung with a tightened grip
small fingers wrapping round layers and layers and layers of fabric.
we walked slowly.
the air swept my lungs bringing warm scented meals from the streets around
a nostalgia for a childhood serving of comfort I would never know you to make.
as the affectionate spices faded into wafting warm breads baking
I examined a little boy and his mother happily grasping newly purchased sweet buns
you smiled watching me watching them
we walked slowly
you started to hold on tighter, so I did too.
we walked slowly
for a long time
The leaves were falling in our rhythm
They knew something I did not.
bright flashes flew past and vivid beauty of fall hugged the ground
we walked slowly
crunching, heavy foot crunching, intension crunching, crackle crunching.
we walked slowly
just as quickly as we arrived i was no longer yours.
Your warmth rushed to meet my face.
Fall consumed your entirety.
The colors which embraced the ground became uplifted
they rose inexplicably back to try and meet the trees.
to compromise.
You were caught in between natures negotiation.
a mediator between two sides of up and down.
the colors died out with your warmth.
the leaves fell down to once again meet the ground
all that used to be was the same
but there was a slow ripple of change
my fingers were wrapped around layers and layers and layers of
of.
a structure.
of.
of.
of newly woven fabric which would never smell of you.
we walked slowly
we continue to walk slowly
its hard, but we still do.
And I remember you.