Mingled

 Note: Thirty-four years ago, I began writing poetry. From time to time, generally between blog series, I like to share one with you. Today's poem I wrote my sophomore year of college. I was struggling a bit, remembering a painful period in high school, and associating that with my current arc. It speaks of how I would cry as I walked my paper route of an afternoon after school. We so often minimize/ignore pain. I believe/d that is unhealthy. One of the ways I've dealt with pain in my life is to write. Such was the case with this one, a meditation on tears.

Stay tuned; a new blog series launches next week.

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Mingled

How oft have I mingled my tears

With rain that came from the sky?

How oft through my highschool years

Did thunder drown out a cry?

The salt and the fresh on my cheek

As if they'd the perfect right

To merge into one angry streak

Stinging my face and the night?

How oft did a snowflake drift down

To melt at the touch of a tear?

On leaves all crumpled and brown

A darkening stain would appear.

How oft on a sweat-soaked face

Smudged with newspaper ink

Streaks from each eye would race

While eyelide rapidly blinked?

How oft would the bite of the wind

Whip a drop past my ear?

I'd glance, thinking to find

Rain, but be blurred with a tear.

Snowflakes, raindrops, and sweat,

Sunshine, night time, and dew,

Pine needles, gravel - I'll bet

Tears will still mingle with you.

-Tom Brennan

September 7, 1992