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June 2006

by Natalie Jones

       for my friends

The summer Jean died
we kept driving late at night or
walking along the beach holding
hands looking for falling stars
or love—that type of thing.
We continued to believe in
concepts: laughter, infinity.
That summer, each member
of my family read books
in different rooms of the house,
self-contained in our own
walls, latching onto
favorite sentences like a hymnal
or prayer.

I can’t believe we still did things
out of boredom

or out of carelessness. We
continued to believe in laughter,
infinity. The summer Jean died
I rode a bike away from Michael.
James and I could taste California.
I lost Naomi and Whitney
to New York City.
Tommy built swingsets
in the afternoon summer rain.
Lauren was suddenly
a young woman. Seeing Ed
felt exactly as necessary
as it did six years ago.
Chris called—long distance.

The summer felt like a convergence
of lives with no choice but to move forward.

And there was always
tension. This game of looking
or of looking away. The tension of
clasped and unclasped hands
or of men struggling to carry his coffin.
An approaching, a receding.
I swear I saw Jean on the seashore—
will he become the moon?
And how seriously we took ourselves:
those terrible linebreaks, those
incredibly slow tears. How slowly
the ice melts on the shoreline
between myself and them.
I will remember faces

in the scenery waving goodbye in sunshine
by those judgmental waves.

06/25/2006

Posted on 06/25/2006
Copyright © 2010 Natalie Jones

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Steven Kenworthy on 06/26/06 at 12:08 AM

i felt like i was becoming a part of your family this poem was so intimate. a tremendously forward write with some very pretty vocab and a sad, but gorgeous in its pain sort of message. there is a song called, "you are the moon" by the Hush Sound. you should check it out. keep writing...i am impressed so far. the rawness here...i love it.

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