Undressing An Old Address Book Poem by Susan Lacovara

In a drawer full of pencils
In my roll top desk
Like a graveyard of memories
Headstones marked by an old address book
Whose pages were worn
From the turning of time
My own scribbling looks strangely unfamiliar
A handwriting riddled with faded faces
Distant places and dreams I used to know
I decided to draw lines
Through those who had died
Either by natural causes
Or by cause and effect...

I had carried this collection of names
In cloth clutches, knapsack, satchels
And fine Italian leather purses
Decades spent securing a way to keep them close
Send a card, drop a line, acknowledge a birthday
Maybe have them accept a collect call
(in the middle of the night)
Only to have them stare back at me
On a lonely night in April
After hearing a friend is not doing well
Remembering how strong and virile
Our young bodies used to be
Before we played too hard, too rough
And waved goodbye too many times
And waved goodbye too many times
And
waved
goodbye
too
many
times...