I wait in the rain for a taxi.
This street is newly paved.
The scent of smoke and oil
hover, curl in the air.
Flecks of light reflect in the water
reminding me of diamonds.
There wasn’t any pavement
where we lived on the coast,
only snow, gravel and mud.
The winter months were
best when we simmered in
out nest, wintering wasps.
The white clapboards preserved
us like a museum vault.
We celebrated spring
by splashing them with schoolhouse
red, a sign, you said, of something
we cherished. But paint cracks and
fades quickly in sandy, salty air.
You left in October before the
first snow. There was a long note,
more than I planned to do.
It is still raining, the taxi driver
is saying something. I am remembering
the night sky over the coast,
the way stars would shine out over the ocean,
a million hard diamonds.
Open link night at the Pub
Diamonds in the Street
21 Tuesday Jan 2014
Posted poems
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brian miller said:
i like hoe you use the paint to set up things not lasting…and how you subtlely hint you both knew it, she just beat you to the note…i like how you bookend the memory in the present as well..
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claudia said:
oh wow…this is a cool poem… love the storytelling and weaving in of memory… a contemplative write…really well done… touching images..
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Björn Rudberg (brudberg) said:
The urban beginning and into the mud — what a leap of thought, and at the end tying it together with those diamonds… really a great line of thought.. with that melancholy tied in there…
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coalkissed said:
Marvelous. Your descriptions are sheer perfection. I like how the paint reflects how our memories can fade. I could smell and see the line “a scent of smoke and oil hovers, curling in the air.” Beautiful.
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Raven Spirit said:
I so identify with each verse here that it is uncanny! Each verse, however the most relevant verse being:
There wasn’t any pavement
where we lived on the coast,
only snow, gravel and mud.
The winter months were
best when we simmered in
out nest, wintering wasps.
And then there was mud-season!
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Mary said:
I picture someone coming back to a place they used to know and thinking about how things used to be. The taxi driver is talking, but the protagonist is lost in his own thoughts. This is a very poignant poem, Ron. I am not sure I have the idea exactly, but it definitely drew me in.
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Gabriella said:
I like how the new road triggers off old memories and a past love story. I enjoyed your imagery, the red flaking paint and the work of the sand and rain. Great poem, Ron!
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Steph said:
I read this a few times… it’s so lovely, melancholy, nostalgic, and very well-crafted. The metaphor of the paint cracking, and the rain, and of course the hard diamonds. A great poem..
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hisfirefly said:
“There was a long note,
more than I planned to do”
how words can slash deep
yes, this!
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emmettwheatfall said:
I hear a hint of the great Billy Collins in this piece. Nice write!
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Kathryn Dyche Dechairo said:
Memories of a love story beautifully written. I love the wintering wasps, the cracking of the pain and ending with those hard diamonds.
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Colleen@LooseLeafNotes said:
A scene that comes to life. Nice juxtaposition between two places and two times.
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Glenn Buttkus said:
Excellent poetics, Ron; vague as to intent, but riveting as to words, images, movement, emotion; anything painted red, like the image artistically of the red umbrella gets my attention–still confused as to who wrote the note though.
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Rallentanda said:
Your poem is like watching a movie.. Something triggered the flashback. I am familiar with that wave of nostalgia that washes over you making you oblivious to what is going on around you. So difficult to express in words and you did it so well . Too good:)
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Lasha said:
Poem was so very sweet the way you have titled it awesome
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Ronald E. Shields said:
Thank you Lasha.
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Anthony North said:
Memories, emotion, mood – all interweaving into a great work.
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poetrypea said:
It’s hard to find those starry skies any more.
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Grace said:
I love the moment’s reflection, just letting us breathe in the scenery & emotional undertones ~ Deftly done ~
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kkkkaty1 said:
I really enjoyed this melancholy rush here…there’s just something about waiting for a taxi in the rain that gets me 😉
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ayala said:
A great capture of the memory, a lovely share.
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