Parallel Universes
I came across this postcard in a second-hand bookstore here in Roubaix, a picture perfect to send like I’m sending it now, home across the ocean that won’t keep us apart for long. Remember sitting on your mother’s bed with me after she couldn’t live alone any longer, telling your history slowly through a box of photos from your childhood in the city? One sticks most in my mind, so much like this one: A girl of three or four, laughing happily at the camera, or maybe something her mother’s girlfriend said a second before taking the picture, laughing and holding a cat in her small arms, a cat not getting the joke in typical cat fashion but not struggling to leave the child’s cradling comfort. I hope the cat had a long and happy life. I hope it took good care of that little girl who would one day be you.
4 thoughts on "Parallel Universes"
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The prose poem form works. I love the riff on the cats and the wistful ending.
Thanks, Linda. Perhaps a touch long for the back of a postcard, but poetry sometimes call for the same willful suspension of disbelief as other fictions.
Your comment: “…poetry sometimes calls for the same willful suspension of disbelief as other fictions” is one I’m going to copy on a postcard and stick in my copy of “Best American Poetry, 1993”
Ha!