Transitions

By Elizabeth Carson

One Woman's Reflections

How many changes do we go through in our lives? How many times are the roadmaps wrong, and we find ourselves taking off on new trajectories, with a destination but no clear idea how to get there?

Losing a spouse is certainly one of those times. The first half of this collection, An Expected Death, takes a look at one turn in my road. It wasn't a surprise. Michael had Parkinson's, and we knew his death was approaching. But my reactions – grief, yes, but also bewilderment and release – those surprised me.

The second section of the book is a miscellany, from the cheerful whimsy of "Bee Magic" to a craving for darkness in the lead-up to Yule in "The Dark Times". There are brushes with philosophy and spirituality, but not, I hope, with a heavy hand.

And you will find dives into pure silliness, such as the two wordplay poems, "Amok" and "Aghast".

No one's life is free of challenges, nor should it be. Overall, however, my life is a happy and rewarding one. I wish the same for you, and that you might find something that resonates in this collection. Something that brings on a laugh, or a reflection… or better still, a thought – "I can do better than that!" – followed by the acquisition of paper and pencil (laptop?) and the birth of a new poem to reflect your own, beautiful self.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elizabeth Carson
• Release date: Aug 25, 2021
• ISBN: 9781777099367

Book preview

Invitation

On each page, a poem.

Behind each poem, a mystery… and an adventure.

Let me invite you in.

Where might this compact set of words take you?

Will you find yourself traversing

highlands of enchantment,

desperate bogs of despair?

Will you find home truths, or simply home?

Laughter may accompany you, or tears,

a strip tease or words so dense

there’s no excavating their meaning.

Or perhaps there is no journey at all,

merely a comfortable certainty that you are

exactly where you belong.

Take a deep breath and come on in.

Don’t be afraid. A poem is, after all,

just words.

Let’s travel together,

explore the magic woven through the rhythms,

agree, and argue, and learn.

You are welcome. Come on in.

Part 1:

An Expected Death

Neighborhood Walk

We were drawn outdoors into sunshine

for what proved to be our last walk… well, shuffle really,

your legs contesting once familiar movements.

It was a balmy afternoon, not too hot,

the world ripe with summer

as we navigated the sidewalk.

Our pace was speedier than had become usual.

I was encouraged…

until, that is, I realized.

Caught in forward momentum, you had lost

the strength to hold yourself back.

We didn’t talk much,

but I gripped your arm,

partly to keep you upright,

partly just to hold on.

Neighbors waved. You always were popular,

and they all knew it couldn’t be long.

Our last walk…

Last… last…

A Day in July

Today, the day you died…

After, it was the thought I’d never see you again

that got to me,

Never again look at your face

I’d studied for a lifetime.

When they came to take you away from me

I wanted to block them, say No, it’s too soon,

But what would be the point?

Your physical self – your remains, how terrible a word,

and how true –

was already changing,

no longer a part of who you had been.

It’s up to memory now, that perilous vessel,

clinging to the you of forty years ago, twenty,

yesterday.

Today, the day you died, I am numb.

Don’t go, love. Don’t leave me alone.

Stay somewhere safe and whole,

somewhere I will know to find you.

Day 2

If asked, I’d say my current state

is bewilderment.

Turns out I’m not clear on the