Belt I Rest My Groceries On
for Deanka Saunders

without e-mail account
how can she see what I'm feeling
read what I'm saying

several already which she has not read
another to add to what she'd not know of
know nothing of

told her several times
of my having written poems of her

have you an e-mail account yet
and each time she's answered, "No"

she'd not know of this poem either
it has been germinating in me all day

missing seeing her, missing her like crazy
missing her so much it aches

in spite of differences with that super market
a different manager almost every visit

treatment different,
respect for this customer inconsistent

it used to be otherwise, it used to be nice

go there and find time for closing changed
what was familiar become strange

I like a stranger on the outside
confronted with cold refusal to admit me

she and I, I feel or I'd feel, connected
eye contact, subtlest gestures

"Are you O.K.?" I'd ask her. "Yes," she'd say
appreciative and naturally

permitting me the right to inquire, to connect
she'd have the sniffles, a sinus problem probably

my care not just for what I buy, for what I save
for what I spend, for her as well

realized long ago she's deep, spiritually
naturally quiet, contemplative

no superficial chatter ever, no sign of fickleness
committed to life's seriousness, its depth, as I am

in life, deep fishing, as I am, as I do

how I'd love to make her giggle
get to the other sides of her, I know she has them

fold and unfold her in every possible way
in every direction

what rich interplay is possible between us

she'd return to work and as usual
she’d be without a smile or nearly

on the job that limited range of emotions
but I'd know, we'd know

all the notes and all the keys
I'd insist upon exploring, upon playing them

insist upon all the music, all the noises
she was, we together were capable of

I have a sense of her full range

just twice she raised her head,
looked me in the eyes

what was implied was Bob Dylan's
"You've got a lot of nerve
to say you are my friend"
to want to be my friend

I do, I'd welcome that and more

think I can care for her as deeply
as I care for myself

deep and beautiful soul she is
I wish to from within explore

vast as she is, I'd need a visa
I'd want to spend six months to a year
to start with


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2009
1:10 a.m. 18.10.09