Monday, November 01, 2010

One Art
by Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

---Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
___

Recently, as I've been setting my financial ducks in a row for filing bankruptcy, I've been confronted over and over again with what I've lost and have been grieving it some again.

He lost his job, so we lost our car and we lost our house. As a result, I miss stuff. I've mastered the art of losing, but the grief, I haven't got a handle on yet.

I miss my friends. I miss my house's view of the Washoe Valley and the nightly view of the sun setting on the Sierras. I miss dry desert air. I miss my van. I miss the friends my kids had. I miss the things I know and the people who knew me and my family. I miss having enough money to pay bills. I miss being able to pay for what my kids need.

I miss having security.