Marianet II – to Leaf

Today I bussed down to the train station to see off Jeremy and Jo. Right away I felt sad once they left, and figured that one of them had to be a destroyer. I know for cetain that Jeremy is a preserver, or maybe even a creator, but certainly not a destroyer. However, I would quickly think Jo as a destroyer. My brother’s a preserver, and I think you are too.

I felt empty and lost as I walked to the market for the veggie-tables. Plenty still to be had by 12:15, and I found those who I knew I needed to see. Namely Jane, Wylie, Anke, Friedel, and Ruby (my short asian tofu friend). And it turns out that I might be going to Anke and Weibke’s place out in the country tonight for their dinner party. Anyhow, I bought some purple mitten-repair yarn and scooted. Once home I cleaned up the basement beds, rolled up the sleeping bags, packed away the pillows, swept under the tables…. There were so many things to do which reminded me that Jo and Jeremy and Marty are no longer here. By this time it hadn’t truly hit me that you were missing, I guess that’s because I had been kept busy with the remaining guests. It’s tireing being the provider for so many days straight. I guess every guest has the right to be needy in any way at any time.

With my vegetables put away I came across a few other things to stow. Namely, your scarf and mitten pairs, boots and slippers. I gently rested them in the bottom of my tall white closet, ready to come out on request. Jane, Thomas and Friedel n’ them all asked me today when you’d planned to come back, it seems you had come and left so quick. Needless to say I couldn’t provide a sure answer, though I reassured them that you’d reappear with the warmy weather.

So before I sew my shoes and dander my mitts, I preserved a brief opportunity to mope and write this note and a poem. Once again, it was such a pleasure to have you come up and stay for a nice little while, your a cute girl.

Love you dearly,
Raspberry

If You were a marianet, hung
From a puppeteer’s cable,
With strings for keepin’ you stable,
You’d move in sight without sound.

And Your hands would be cold as copper by me,
You’d have shaken up too much to dance,
But your ruby-red lips and thimble cup feet
Imagine the form in your stance.

Still dressed in the gowns you wore into town,
Last easter when this show began, but
Something had tugged at your clothes pin nose,
And before curtains drew, you ran.

If You were a marianet, why you’d
Have cut through that a puppeteer’s cord,
With chicklet click teeth and a saphire sheath,
You’d stow away quickly the sword

The air here was clear, yet fairly severe,
And those candy apple cheeks they did chip,
With the travelling show, you skipped town in the snow,
On your rock-a-by maple leaf trip.