Yesterday I had to go to Target, where I ran into a wall of people: mothers with wiggling children; anxious looking young men; gray heads, all cued up in front of the rows and rows of Valentine Day cards, tying to find just the right card, just the right sentiment. Behind the rack of cards, heart-shaped red boxes filled with waxy chocolates waited to be carried out in sweating hands. A sign in the jewelery section flashed out, "Show her you love her, buy her a gold heart."
I left the store cloaked in self-righteous cynicism: another holiday created to sell and sell and sell some more. And yet, I thought later, there is something in us as humans that wants to reach out, tell someone "I love you" in the many senses of the word, that wants to be reached out to. So I was warmly satisfied when I read Gerry Hausman's blog and his sweeter than any chocolate, more precious than a gold heart poem.
I wish for all people that the essence of Gerry's poem be on any card they received, that it hangs around their necks like the finest of gold hearts, that it melts in their mouth like a bite of the best dark chocolate.
Enjoy, and happy day after Valentine's Day.
On brown grass charred with cold I see two, not very old friends, kissing
Could be they're husband and wife curious creatures who mate for life
Or are they two infrequent friends rubbing cheeks to make amends
Whatever it is they're only two this day I saved to think of you
How straight their necks so fine and tall -- Canadian geese at the shopping mall.