When the snow heats up,
then cracks under-boot,
like a crème brûlée
in the morning's huff,
I think of you
making me solid enough
to be broken.
So what is there left
in my wake but holes,
little bowls of air,
low breaths of cold?
And what can I do
(with those in my hands)
but whisper in/out to you
as a token?
The speaker longs to tell a loved one that he is grateful for what they have done for him. I can sympathize with the speaker because he feels empty with “holes” and “little bowls of air” without the person he wants to speak to. This poem reminds me to thank people before it is too late because we never know when someone’s time on the earth will be done. The speaker still tries to speak to his loved one for “making [him] solid enough to be broken” but he is struggling because all that he can do is speak to someone who is already gone. Most people forget to thank people for their help in life because they assume they can do it at a different time, but it is harder to regret saying something than to actually tell the person and let them know how we feel about them. I feel that the title of this poem, “The missing line” is also there to represent that saying thank you is not the only thing that we forget to tell someone. Whether it is “I love you” or “have a safe trip” we are never sure that we will be able to say these words the next time we see someone, because we cannot predict the future or someone’s fate. Overall, this poem helps me realize how important it is to say how you feel when you feel it, because waiting for a time later may result in you regretting your “missing line”.
ReplyDeleteYah. Agreed. Well-read.
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