Like
me, She was out on her own
Like
me, She was glad to have "caught" the streetcar
Like
me, She was an older, an elder on the outside
A
wise little innocent child crone on the inside
Like
me, She was wounded and smiling and open
Like
me, She was missing some teeth
Like
me, near-death had visited
Leaving
a vague but impressive package
And
then departed
Like
me, Her heart had been broken
So
deeply
so
profoundly
so
vividly
so
purposefully
Like
me, Her heart had cracked and cracked and cracked
Like
me, She thought it could not crack any further
Without
killing her
Only
to discover
When
she awoke
She
was not dead
Only
done with
the small things
that could deaden
And kill her
like being afraid.
that could deaden
And kill her
like being afraid.
This
poem is dedicated to Renae, the beautiful lady on the streetcar.
by
Pattra Burnetto Monroe March 2016 This image came from the
internet yesterday. I do not know its origin, but the timing was
perfect.
I
met this elf of a woman on the streetcar the other day, she was
huffing and puffing as she plopped into her seat, so relieved to
have made it into and onto the streetcar. Our eyes locked as she sat
in the seat reserved for the elderly and disabled. We laughed and
smiled. We started talking across the aisle from each other. She
moved over to sit next to me and we continued to talk and
she apologized for her bad breath (which it wasn't) and missing
teeth and her lop-sided smile, I nodded in empathy because I'd walked
in those toothless-grin shoes and told her that it was perfectly okay
with me as, “my teeth are now wooden”. We laughed some more and
then she told me her story.
In five city blocks it is possible to fall totally in love with a stranger. I've done it many times. Here is Renae's story: she lost half her teeth due to an illness. She began, "I had a fever of 109 degrees and survived, while I was in the hospital, in a coma, I had a long conversation with my grandmother. I was surprised she was there, but then, I was even more surprised that my son wasn't, because he had died when he was twenty years old and I expected he would be the one to come see me. The nurses and the doctors all heard me talking away and told me this when I woke up, but I remember the conversation clearly. She told me to "go back!"
Here's
what happened prior to the coma: Renae was bitten by a bug last
summer. The bug bite became infected. It was summertime in the city.
"Hot time, Summer in the city" and she passed out on the
sidewalk. Her blood began to boil before help came. She was taken to
the hospital by an ambulance and remained in a coma for several days
or longer. I'm not sure of the time thing as we literally only talked
together for about five minutes or about five to ten city blocks on a
streetcar and in appearance we looked very different which is part of
the point is that our similarities far outweighed our differences.
Our
differences of skin color (me white, she black), or our hair color
(hers still black, mine grey or pewter as my Meg sweetly refers to
it), or weight (she petite, me obese), plus she also looked so
spry... I can barely walk these days. Our differences didn't stop us
from talking or smiling or striking up a conversation. Our ability to
see pass them allowed us to have this precious moment and experience
together. I hope I never forget her... but then, I forget a lot
lately, too. We also had that in common. xooooxp
