Paramour:

/ Pam Goode


When he called to say he’d be home early, an hour away at most,
she hurriedly grabbed the signs of her weekend with passion:
the voluptuously hot-colored glass,
(a spontaneous deviation from her usual blues),
the achingly sharp tools …
the milky white adhesives,
the markers (you are MINE!),
the ubiquitous remnants of joy
left strewn across the table,
the chairs,
the floors,
her clothes…
the Tears for Fears,
the Prince,
the Elton.

Closet closed now,
the sweep of the vacuum,
the stash of memories
now buttoned up,
but only a wisp away
from tomorrow’s
studio time.

12 thoughts on “Paramour:”

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  3. One never tires of the knowledge that they are missed when they are gone. Nothing better than a Welcome Home!

    Your musical mentions made me dig out a few of my favorite Elton/Bernie numbers – Thanks!

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  6. Amante
    .
    Quando lui la chiamava per dirle che sarebbe tornato a casa presto,
    entro un’ora al massimo,
    lei afferrava in fretta e con passione i sogni del suo fine settimana:
    i vetri dai colori voluttuosamente caldi,
    (una deviazione spontanea dalla sua solita malinconia),
    gli strumenti dolorosamente affilati …
    gli adesivi bianco latte,
    i pennarelli (sei MIO!),
    gli onnipresenti resti di gioia
    lasciati sparsi sul tavolo,
    sulle sedie,
    sui pavimenti,
    sui suoi vestiti…
    le lacrime di paura,
    il principe,
    l’Elton.
    .
    L’armadio adesso è chiuso,
    l’aspirapolvere,
    la scorta di ricordi
    ormai abbottonata,
    ma solo a un soffio dal tempo
    di domani.
    .
    I was pleased to translate this beautiful poem, which I will publish on Sunday 19 May in my Gioielli Rubati column, thanks and greetings from Italy

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