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The End: A Prose Poem
In a distant lifetime, in a place where these things can happen—where hearts can bend without breaking, and time can move without taking—it was just the two of us. We were under a willow by the river. It was mid-autumn. I held your hand and sighed in remembrance; of what I don't know. Maybe joy. Maybe sorrow at its inevitable passing. You sighed along with me, and we watched the river flow for hours, saying little, saying everything. Saying nothing. It was all understood, whatever it was. I don't know, but it was perfect. I pretended you'd always be mine, although I knew you wouldn't be. You pretended, too. We both knew this day was the end. All downhill from this day on, no question about it. There was a potency to it all, deep and unending, knowing that it was the end. We thought about marriage, kids, old age—but kept silent. None of this could come into the open; none of this could be said. At dusk you held my hand tightly, as if to say to me, "It was a good day. It's over now. That was it. This is the end." I held yours back just as tightly and in equal knowledge, and we made our way down the rutted road back to wherever it was we came from. Almost. You looked at me and I could see the potential; maybe you saw it, too. Maybe our dreams were similar. Maybe they were identical. As you kissed me good night, I knew that the days would pass, we would see each other, we would even love each other, but we would no longer be each other's. That day was over, that dream was over, that life was over. What a day it had been, but this was the end.
© Kate Parker / Faceless39
AFTERTHOUGHTS AND REFLECTIONS
This is my first ever attempt at what's called a prose poem. The Poets.org website describes prose poetry thus: "Though the name of the form may appear to be a contradiction, the prose poem essentially appears as prose, but reads like poetry."
When I learned about this idea I had to try it, but I felt that whatever I wrote would have to be moving, emotional, and from the gut. Prose poetry is written in a different way and at first I had no idea what to write about. Luckily (I can say that now) I was going through some relationship realizations at the time--perfect fodder for my first attempt!
Most of us have been in a relationship that somewhat confounded us. You liked doing things with them, got along great, and even loved them (in one way or another)--yet you knew this person wasn't "the one." With raw emotions still fresh in my psyche, I began my attempt to set it down.
I'm not sure how others do it, but I just wrote this as stream-of-consciousness. At one point I crumpled up my piece of paper and threw it away, but fished it out again. It was all part of my experience, all part of re-living something painful to enable myself to move on. It's great to turn something so emotional into a functional, positive experience. I hope I've done that here.