Ashes in Bath Water
Photo/Courtesy of Richard Martin.
By Richard Martin
In May of 2020 I became an orphan. I lost the last tie that I had to the idea of a family, leaving me without a mother, sister, daughter, father, brother, and son. All that TV, books, and fables have defined as safety and dependability was lost. That level of “alone” brought me a fear and hurt that I could not define, so I just simply suffered through silently. I kept my shoulders back, chin up, and heart off.
The springtime of 2021 brought to me a chance to evaluate these feelings. An English 220 class with a favored professor let me write when I really needed it: forcing myself to be honest and insane on paper in hopes of manifesting some of this wretched hurt. A hurt shared by many but still individually brutal to each person suffering a death is this time of unknown disease and wide-spread fear.
The poem below has been many things: an assignment, a rip and tear revision, a pain in the ass, and finally an elegy I could never write before. This helped everything and hindered nothing. Each time I wrote something I would sleep dreamlessly and seamlessly. I sincerely beg anyone who has too quiet of feelings or pain too deep to write it down. Make the art of our time. We have a rare opportunity here to blanket the world with new thoughts on racism, pollution, and the definition of family because we’ve had time to think.
Dick Martin
Ashes in Bath Water
By Dick Martin
I need a little perspective since
my honesty up and died.
You wore every crown and
cleaned every floor. A mirror
that enjoyed looking at me. You
could find things inside of me
lost to longing and disappointment.
When I became stupid and
shot arrows of drama
wildly at the lovelies around me,
as a Goddesses you spoon fed me
ambrosia and decency
till I cried the right tears.
Now, like the perfect
Christmas tree you are gone in smoke.
Just ashes in bathwater
that slowly sink and spread
as naturally as red blood cells
inked over bed sheets
making designs of devils and dishes
depending on the mood.
I won’t let that be the last memory of you,
my beautiful honesty.
Providence took your last breaths from me
in sealed corridors of chaos and Covid.
I hope you were at peace
or at least lit up like the 1960s
with just as much hope in your heart
for the change that’s coming.
Richard Martin is currently a mature student at Truckee Meadows Community College studying for his Associate Degree in Science and finishing at the University of Nevada, Reno, with a degree in Ecohydrology. He was born and raised in northern Nevada and hopes to help preserve this beautiful chunk of our world.
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