no time for sadness; Poetry submission by Milly Brown

Milly Brown is a California-born poet with a lot of experience. She studied under Josephine Miles at U. C. Berkeley. Currently Milly lives in Reno, Nevada. She writes beautiful, romantic, sad yet tender poems.

Milly says: “Many of my poems have been printed in various publications over the years, most recently:  Ponder Savant; Main Street Rag; U-Rights Magazine;  Straylight Online; Bangalore Review; California Quarterly.  Previously: Desert Wood (UNR, 1991); Eclectic (1970); Hiram Poetry Review (1971);  The Green Flag (City Lights Books, 1969).   I took a long break from submitting, but I am revived”.


OUR ROMANCE

It could have been
A chance meeting,
That glance across the lobby,
That warm flash of attraction,
A smile.

It could have been an
Evening together,
Exquisite dinner,
A drink and a dance
And a revue,
A goodnight kiss.

It could have been a
Weekend thing,
Meeting on the sly,
Soaring in a plane,
Gourmet dinner and wine,
And love.

It could have been a
Long affair,
Perilous with circumstance,
Passionate phone calls
And Autumn picnics
And over tea cups,
A cry.

But how could it end there?

It could have lasted five years, ten years,
Emerging with a child –
Backrubs and understanding
Hasty good-bye kisses,

Please-do-dishes messages,
A sigh.

It could proceed
Through silver anniversary then gold,

As we grow boldly old,
Our child now big enough
To marvel at us
Stumbling through time.
As we glance across a lifetime with

A smile.

SOLITUDE

Solitude satisfies.
Alone,
Not a-lonely.
Lonely is lost.

Solitude satisfies,
Purifies,
Rectifies.
Within is without
Withholds.

LYING ON THE GROUND

Lying on the ground,

Looking through the grass I see

Two blades stretch higher

Than the eucalyptus tree.

I LOVED HIM

At last I can say
That I loved him
(the past tense being
The only lie)
That the picture is finally finished
The last stroke
A fair good-by.

He moved stealthily
Sensuously,
A sleek cat
Quiet and gentle
And tender in love.

I painted him with the colors of my poetry.
I painted me
With blushes
And a gleeful wash
Of smiles.

It was good while it lasted.
We shared a rare delight.

We might meet again,
But the sketch will be new,
The colors changed –
And bright.

DOWN

Chin deep in bath water,
Hoping to postpone
The inevitable headache,
Regular as worry…

Writing to New York friends
And hearing New York is
The worst place
In the world
And knowing they will
Not come back here,
For this is worse than
The worst place,
Made worse by dead hopes
And dead loves,
Not my lonely fault…

Showing my just-published poems
To someone who’d already seen them.
‘That was weeks ago’, he said.
I think of faded ladies
Who show yellowed love-letters
To succeeding generations
Of other-people’s daughters…

I have no time for used-up dreams.
I have no time for sadness
Or for bathing chin deep
In inevitable headaches.


Thank you, Milly for submitting your poetry!

Photos by Anthony Tran, Catherine Heath, Caique Silva, Silas Baisch, youssef naddam.

Collages by WTZ.

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