Living Alone

Sabra on Ponce de Leon Ave. Spring, 1969I’ve lived alone twice.  Once when I was twenty and now in the six years since my husband died.

At twenty, I lived in a boardinghouse – a colonial style house on Ponce de Leon Ave. in Atlanta, Georgia.  My room had an outside entrance, bath, closet, and a corner-of-the-room kitchen.  It was all I needed.

The Polaroid picture above was taken across the street from the boardinghouse in the Spring of 1969.  It was the year I would marry.

I now live in a suburb of Atlanta (Duluth) in a ranch style house.  I’ve lived here for thirty-two years.  We purchased it when interest rates were 18% to 20%.  It was what we could afford.  I won’t need to down-size because we never bought into ‘bigger is better.”  Our little home was all we needed.

About four years after Doug died, I began to enjoy living alone.  When I realized the amount of satisfaction it brought me, I wrote the following poem.

Living Alone

Hesitate to tell you

how much I relish

living alone.

Only house plants,

the occasional spider,

and thirty years of memories

dwell with me.

My favorite thing:

arriving home from work

and there is no one

to be mad at.

About Sabra Bowers

Poet / Blogger / Writer
This entry was posted in Poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

16 Responses to Living Alone

  1. Nice…you can feel the memories.

  2. Veronica Roth says:

    Sabra, I love that photo of your beautiful self from ’69. To me you haven’t changed. It’s wonderful to be able to pour out our feelings with poetry. We’re lucky that way, aren’t we. Love that sincere little poem. 🙂

  3. Sabra Bowers says:

    Thank you, Veronica. The little photo has almost faded away. Yes, poetry is how I healed after Doug died. It was the only thing true enough, brief enough (it was hard to think in those days), and interesting enough to engage me. Thank you for visiting my blog and taking time to comment. It means a lot to me because you are blogger extraordinaire. 🙂

  4. elissa field says:

    Beautiful, Sabra. It’s not quite the same (as I’m crowded by my sons), but I’ve had that same feeling since my long marriage ended. It was a surprisingly weightless and confidence-inspiring feeling to know I was just fine being on my own — which is to say, you expressed that feeling so clearly!

  5. Sabra Bowers says:

    Thank you, Elissa. Yes, there was/is an unhurried joy to be with myself, undistracted. So glad you shared with me that you too understand that feeling of weightless centeredness. I’m embracing your words and knowing that we are just fine on our own. All the best to you! 🙂

  6. Coming to peace with living alone really takes time. Freedom, it seems, is hard to take. Or, maybe, habits fade slowly. I love it that you are open about it.

  7. Sabra Bowers says:

    Mariya, thank you for taking the time to leave me a thoughtful comment. It does take time. Interesting and true that freedom can be hard when we are used to doing for and being with others. Best to you my sister poet!

  8. I love that picture of you! And I enjoyed learning more about you and reading your touching, sincere poem.

  9. Sabra Bowers says:

    Thank you, Linda. I’m so glad you stopped by my blog. I dug through photos and memories to find that photo. It was a little sad to see that my photos from those days are fading. Loved your last two poems…short and powerful.

    • A good time to put those photos into digital format then, right (and perfect on your blog)? I have a bunch I need to do that with. Writing a blog post to go with them seems like a great incentive to getting the job done!
      RE: my poems .. thank you.

      • Sabra Bowers says:

        Yes, I do want to put them into digital format. Now to find the time. That always seems to be my drawback. I should designate a weekend for this project. Maybe in the spring. 🙂 I look forward to seeing more of your books, Linda!

  10. lynnhesse says:

    Shared this poem on Twitter

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