The Poetic Asides prompt today is to take the phrase "Let's (blank)" and replace the blank with...whatever...and then write the poem. Entirely open ended. I took this as an opportunity to write another poem in the "Blair" series and flesh her out just a little more.
Let's quit playing games
Is what I tell Blair, while I sit and look out
at a boat passing by on the river. She tells me
that she had to get me out of the house and away
from the distractions, that she wanted my undivided
attention and that her voice carries better when
she's unfettered. I hear the distant trains whining,
some strange bird calls I'd never heard before and
a few low flying planes before she continues.
She told me that she's been watching me for some time,
that she felt like she could trust me with her history,
with her secrets. That my face was kind and that we
shared a common bond, a love.
She said that she's been here, trapped in this mid-plain
for months and wasn't sure why. She was just twenty five
when she died, and she lived half of her life in South.
Everything she knew she read in books, that she wished
she could have traveled anywhere, just to see different
people, to taste a life she'd only imagined.
She told me that she had written pages and pages of
poetry and hid them, that she wanted me to help her find
them. I said wasn't sure how I'd be able to do that after
so many years had passed. She had no idea that it was 2012,
that so-called progress had changed more than just
the landscape of the place she called home.
She asked if I could rewrite her words, give her life again.
I asked if I could see her face, if she could come to me
one night while the dog slept, while the house sounds quieted.
She told me to go back to the house, that the sun was going
to burn my pale skin and to wait for her tonight.