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“Moving Forward”
cc&d, v329 (the January 2023 issue)
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a Mural of
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Carol

James Mulhern

You showed me a painting,
shapes of greens, blues, and purples.

A black stroke, apostrophe-shaped, stood out.
“That’s me in a crowd.” You laughed.

I was only twelve. You were thirty-four,
living in an apartment by the beach.

From a window, you could see waves
crashing forward, then contracting.

I thought the painting was like the ocean.
With you in it, tumbling headfirst onto the shore.

I don’t like contractions,
though I just used one.

Deletions and elisions bother me
because something is cut out.

You are now eighty-one. I am fifty-nine.
Seems not a minute has passed.

I wish I had used a paintbrush.
Changed the black mark to an exclamation.

No. A heart would be better.
Bright red, pulsing under the light.

Beating like cresting waves,
crowding and contracting,
incapable of eroding
an everlasting apostrophe-shaped rock.



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