Because we all want to write more poems.
encounter
I approach the pharmacy checkout,
in my hand a white bracelet
inscribed in big black letters, a red
cartoon heart beside them.
I found it in the toy section,
shelved with others in pink and blue
that said "so hot", "don't bother", "over it".
the girl ringing me up is young,
bubbly, her bright face,
olive skin, full eyebrows,
lilting accent marking her as
an immigrant; her
cheerfulness, too.
she asks me
about the bracelet, as if
she has never seen the cheap,
rubbery bracelets carried by
her own store. "what is it?"
I hold it up so she can see.
"I'm learning French, and I thought
it might be a nice reminder."
"oh!" she says, smiling, her dark brows
arching just a little higher. "me too!"
I tell her where I'm taking a class,
encourage her to come. she says,
"I'm learning on my own. I just sit
at the computer." a beat, then:
"my husband says I shouldn't do it,
I'll never use it, it's a waste of time,
but it's so beautiful, I want to learn it,
I hope someday I can travel to France ..."
all the words spill out in a tumble, and I
tell her not to listen to him, go ahead,
learn what you want to learn.
we chat a bit more, I give her some
tips for where to find cheap French
books, ways to practice, remind her
about the local course I'm taking.
when I go, I make sure to tell her
"bonsoir", the way my teacher
says it at the end of class, and when
she looks quizzically at me,
translate it for her.
walking away, I want to
run back to her. I want to say:
I wish you well, I wish you
a happiness
at least as great
as your dreams allow.
but I keep going,
my heart bursting with it
like the cartoon heart
on the bracelet, this wild sudden love
for youth, for hope, for horizons not yet narrowed
by time, by all the things people will tell her
she cannot do. and in the car
I tear the bracelet from its package,
stretch it over my too-big hand,
turn it so the words face upwards
and I can read them
through my tears.
"je t'aime."
- Jennifer Dixey's Shared Poems
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Comments
Benjamin Gorman
March 10, 2012
Permalink
sappy smile
for this one! I was almost on the point of commenting, "You didn't tell us what the bracelet says." Duh.
Jennifer Dixey
March 11, 2012
Permalink
Ha. Le d'oh!
Yeah, it's a little Edna St Vincent Millay, but I just went with it. The last line started out as the title of the poem but then I decided to save it for the end. I think I still like it. :)