Let’s pretend to be married,

Just to see how it feels

To wake up together each day

Let’s pretend that we’ll stay,

Not just for tonight anymore

Pain will soon fade away.


Emma Grace stands in the doorway
watching
listening.
They're laughing at the silly song
silly rhymes
happy that this marriage soon will be real
not pretend anymore.

_________________________

It's getting lighter,
the invisible sun lightening the mist around her.
She can't even tell if she's at the top of the hill
or if there is more,
or another hill.
she's blind.
Wet.
Cold.
Aching.
She sits on a rock
wishing she could see the sun.
She moves to a lower rock,
one sheltered between two big ones.
She leans into them like an old easy chair.
The rock feels warmer than the air
as if it holds some heat from yesterday's sunshine.
She starts to cry, humming the tune of the song over and over,
moaning, keening.
She loses track of time, of space
lost in the fog,
lost in a fog.
The cloud continues to brighten around her.
She closes her eyes
stays still for a long time.
Later she feels warmth on her face
her arms
and opens her eyes.
She can see the sun clearly through the mist.
The mist is thinning.
The sun brightening.

She remembers Jack's face, his voice,
his mouth as he spoke.
Just look, he said.

She hears the tune again
but stronger now
as if the piano has been joined by the strings.
And words come,
new words.
She can hear them
as clearly as she can see the sun.
Now a new day is dawning,
We’re beginning to see
That life is much more than a game
It’s a chance to be free.
If we walk side by side through the world
We may each find a way.
She sings softly to the newly born sun.
If we walk side by side through the fire,
we may both find the way.

_________________________

He haunts her.
He's a running melody in her life
though she sees him
sporadically, in no kind of order
nor rhythm.
New colors appear in front of her eyes
and she wonders if they were just invented
or if she just never noticed before.
She feels the wind from the Bay
and turns to smell what it brings
what stories
what songs
songs
yes songs
more songs.
She hears voices, singing
harps weeping
horns calling
She listens
she remembers
she sits at her piano and picks out a tune
shakes her head
no, that's not it
what was it?
And goes out to listen again.

She drives to the coast
in her newfound freedom
her little green car
hoping that by getting close she'll hear better.
She feels the music in her body
her body that feels like a string
on a harp
taut, ready
to be
plucked.

She sees more and more
people have faces now
expressions, emotions
lives, stories
that they never had before.
Or had she just never noticed?
Now a new day is dawning
we're beginning to
see...

© Copyright 2005 Maggie Wilson