12-12-2023, 04:07 AM
(12-07-2023, 11:52 PM)brynmawr1 Wrote: Your Hand I RememberHi,
For Lillian 1914-2000
I.
The thicket dark and brambled
memories flitting
branch to branch, offering
scant glimpses, precious
faint calls of bird song
logged and recorded.
But you,
you caught among thorns,
what can I hope
to remember of you?
II.
Lily of the valley blooming
sweet sprays of white bells
your favorite flower
remember
your house on Martha Washington
those stairs the height of Everest
how me and the cousins we tumbled
again and again playing
octopus, Grandpa grasping for us
before the blazing living room fire;
a child’s thrill of wishing against
wishing to be caught. But never you
did I glimpse so carefree, your song sung quietly
in the background of memory, I imagine
sitting at your pink Formica table
in the kitchen talking, just us two,
your Lauran Bacall gapped grin,
the curl off your cigarette, hanging
on every missing word never
heard from you to know you.
III.
It could’ve been the light
of early fall or the height
of summer not letting
on that time is short
in that bright hospice room
when I held your hand
not knowing what else; comforted
by the quiet bustle of soft
shoed nurses. Quick to smile,
they hustle tucking blankets
and tending pumps and morphine drips
to the regular rhythm of ragged breath,
wishing against wishing
each is your last.
Your hand I remember
delicate as bird bones,
skin whisper soft
spotted and thinned
by years held
such heat, your last
glowing ember of yesterday’s fire.
I read this poem, I think it was the day after you posted it, and I absolutely loved its potential. There was so much to like.
I am still very new at this critique stuff, and felt called to sit on my thoughts for a couple of days or so.
I had especially loved the hospice room description. Perfectly captured and described with wonderful brevity.
I loved the opening concept of the thicket and the flitting, but it wasn't quite there ... yet. However, it is now IMO.
I love the phrase "wishing against wishing", and your repetition of it.
I originally thought after reading your first version here, that your multiple uses of the words memory/memories/glimpses were redundant ... for the title itself declares the idea. But now, reading this version, I don't at all feel that way. I believe that the change for me is a combination of the editing that has been done and my own deeper understanding of this poem.
A couple of other thoughts that I had had were:
1) to describe some earlier "moments" with her hand, so that at the end it cements that your most vivid memories are anchored by the feel or sight of her hand. Perhaps, walking with her as a young child hand-in-hand for instance.
2) you have 2 references to fire. The blazing living room fire, and the glowing ember at the end. (beautiful ending by the way). And I thought that perhaps the scene with her smoking could be expanded to include both references to her hand and to the glow of her cigarette.
I do not now think that those are at all needed.
My last possible change suggestion would have been to the line, "hanging on every missing word never heard from you to know you". I did not get that originally. It is a difficult line, BUT, I would not change it. I get it now, and I love the complexity of the thought. It is certainly OK, and even excellent, to use phrases or words that do not at first present clarity. Everything does not have to be easy for the reader, and I appreciate that you did this.
When I read the poem this morning as it now stands, I was somewhat in awe of the work you have done with others here to perfect it. I really liked it originally, but knew that it wasn't there yet. However, it is now a thing of beauty IMO. A wonderful tribute to Lillian. Thanks for sharing it.