Monday, December 7, 2015

The Gloaming


image by mary kling


The Gloaming

“The gloaming has begun. We’re in the darkness, & we
know this has happened before.”--Thom Yorke.

OK, this happened--I’m sitting here staring at a body of water
that is moving. Is it a river, a bay, the Sound, or the ocean? It
seems familiar. Have I been here before? I seemed to know
the way. It is not frightening.

Why am I all dressed up? A nice gray flannel suit, just like
Gregory Peck. Oh, that’s hilarious, I can remember that movie
but I don’t know my own name. Hell, it will be my luck that
my name will be stupid anyway, like Archiebald, Horatio, Dudley,
Efrem or Elmer. What day is this? Have I just come from church
like a lost lamb? Or am I a minister? No, I swear too much to be
a decent holy man. That’s it, I’m a defrocked priest, slumming at
some Protestant church, with three wise wives in three different
cities, telling them all that I’m a traveling bible salesman, when
actually I work undercover for the government, probably the CDA.

I’m really hungry. I can see it’s late afternoon or early evening. When
did I eat last? Do I have a wallet with cash & ID in it? No, my pockets
are empty. I have strong hands with rope-like veins, but smooth palms,
no callouses--maybe an artist, writer, business or con-man?

If someone comes along should I ask them if they know me? Am I
a dangerous man? Have I hurt people? Do I have children or grand-
children? I see a wedding ring, but I have no recall of a wife. Am I
a widower?

Why am I weeping? I don’t see any blood, or feel any pain--yet, for
Christ’s sake, I can’t quit crying. If I don’t stop pretty soon, someone
will notice & start asking me questions--but hell, then again, I might
get something to eat, or get to go for a ride somewhere. 

Lost in the gloaming,
gray ash falling tenderly;
no light to guide you.


Glenn Buttkus

8 comments:

  1. I like your take on that photo and how you used it in black and while...quite appropriate. You hear of people like this on occasion where suddenly their memories go out on them, perhaps from some trauma, mental or physical. The gloaming indeed...

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  2. To find yourself without memories.. To find yourself moored without memories searching for traces on yourself... Chilling really, imagining what those hands might have done..

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  3. Well.. in this
    third Glenn
    Haibun to
    comment
    back to
    in one day..
    which still pales
    in the effort and
    nows it takes to
    read one of mine..
    so.. i am still far behind
    hehe.. in reciprocation..
    i am reminded now
    of Wife Katrina's two
    week stay of amnesia
    after a particularly
    challenging
    complex
    partial
    epileptic
    seizure.. shortly
    after my recovery
    and purchase of some
    furniture and a 60 inch
    HDTV to celebrate newly
    gained effective use of vision..
    she comes home
    and the look
    of terror
    on her face
    is nothing like
    i've ever seen
    in any horror
    movie of human
    being..
    truly
    it scares
    me then..
    as i feel how
    she feels in empath
    way.. she truly believes
    someone breaks into
    our home
    and put
    that TV
    and furniture
    in here.. as she
    cannot remember
    us buying it at all..
    and she accuses me
    of being part of it.. as
    i will not agree with her
    blank side of the story
    unknown to her
    in forgetfulness...
    She fully recovers
    thank God.. and
    that is the
    only
    episode
    of that
    two years
    ago.. TGx2...

    Precious
    memories
    save sanity..:)

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  4. My goodness, am I glad you wrote another haibun on this prompt - you've done an amazing piece of work here. Deeply, deeply moving - reminds me of a passage in the Richard Yates novel 'Disturbing the Peace" (except there it was clearly induced by alcohol, here it seems to be more Alzheimer's or something like that). You render that state of confusion and anxiety so well!

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  5. Pulled me into an unknown situation, as if lived. Well done.

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  6. What a tragedy...to lose your memories and not know where to go ~ Is he a holy man or a defrocked priest? And those tears, perhaps the brain wants to lock away the painful memories ~

    A mysterious haibun Glenn ~ Thanks for the second share ~

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  7. This is so realistic, Glenn. You got inside of his head & made the reader feel his confusion and his pain. This must be an awful state to be in really, not knowing if you want to know who you are or if it is better that you don't! Thanks for doing a second haibun!!

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