Breakfast with Dan

I am in the middle of the street with stained underwear.
I run to you and
You hold me.
My sorrow crashes into your chest as my tears soak your shoulder. Grief consumes me and spills all over you.
I am fragmented and confused. You take my pain and stroke my hair, consoling me as only a friend can do.
As my sobbing ceases, my tears trickle down my face and off my chin; you tell me it will be OK.
I believe you, for you are my friend.
You hold me until I can breathe, and wash the grime off my hands from the fire, that awful fire!
As the sun peeks round the corner into your window, you cook me breakfast.
We partake together and then smile.
The day is new, and all will be fine. I know this, because you told me so, and you are my friend.
I love you.

Comments: 7

Beryl Singleton Bissell Jan 12, 2006, 7:07pm EST

Carol, your life has held enough sorrow for several. The first line with the "underwear" I found difficult. I remember a fine editor once telling me not to start a piece with a harsh image. But the rest of the piece rings so true and wondrous. Friendship in the midst of anguish is so very precious.

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Carol Voigts Jan 12, 2006, 8:34pm EST

Thanks for sharing more about the fire, Cathy.

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Cat Givens Jan 12, 2006, 9:50pm EST

Beryl, I know what you mean about the meanness of that first image.
That is so where I was, though. It was quite harsh.
What would you do differently?

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Susan N. Jan 13, 2006, 8:04am EST

Cathy, what a stark , startling image that first sentence is - my first thought automatically is a kind of worry for the persons safety and of wondering why anyone would BE in the street wearing stained underware. Gender neutral for so much of the work and then little clues as to just who you are and what horrible thing has happened. Then gently there are caresses of a true friend to help you be all right. First he feeds your soul and then your body and I knew it wold be OK.

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Cat Givens Jan 13, 2006, 8:39am EST

Susan, Dan really came through for me that terrible morning after.
His friendship to me is more precious than all the fine jewels and gold in all the world.
I am honored to share his friendship.
That startling mean image of the first sentence is, as you have probably figured, a metaphor for how I felt.
I have used that image from the time it happened, because it describes perfectly the horror, the exposure and vulnerability.
Blessings to my friend, and to all the Dans of this world.
I'm glad you feel the relief.

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Beryl Singleton Bissell Jan 13, 2006, 10:06pm EST

Oh, Cathy, I probably shouldn't have said anything because this is your truth. Perhaps something like "in garments soiled with grief" But, I am not a poet. Trust your judgement. It's a powerful poem.

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Amy M. Jan 16, 2006, 7:03pm EST

Quite powerful. We should all have such wonderful friends like Dan.

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Breakfast with Dan

Comments: 7

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