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You remembered you’d missed your early morning cuppa
when I asked the hour I was born, to start my star chart.
Child bearing and birthing came easy to you. Six kids
in eight years, tumbled together, a litter of pups.
Summers bottling fruit, making jams and chutney
so the kitchen cupboards filled with stained glass.
A child of the Depression throws nothing away;
plastic, paper, you never know when you’ll need it.
My letters arrived, through love and loss and laziness,
from other countries and different marriages.
I found them in a suitcase while packing up your house.
Here we are again together, at the other end of life.
No words arrive now. You no longer recognize me.
You smile at whoever brings you a cup of tea.
The original thread can be found here
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
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i can't believe i missed this gem, i've just read the thread and the workshoping was excellent. dare i say the end result is nigh on perfect, there has to be something wrong with it of course though i'm damned if i can see where.
couplets 2,3, 5 and 6 are so rich. the third couple shows a wholesome picture consisting of much more than the sum of their parts. they exude happy and loving and sharing. loved it loved the poem. great choice todd.
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Please take this with a grain of salt, but is the last couplet necessary?
Either way, I love this work. I can see the kitchen in my mind. The kitchen I see is my grandmother's, but I am sure that your kitchen and mine are similar.
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Omg. Loved it. Re-read it. SO , so good.......
It's a beauty...I have nothing to critique. I even love the title, it pulled me in.
"Why do you suppose we only feel compelled to chase the ones who run away?" -Vicomte de Valmont, Dangerous Liasons
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I love this part of the site because its full of hidden gems and this one is no exception, it is not only a great example of why we should workshop poems its also delivers stunning images giving the reader privileged insight into aspects of family life that we can all nod in agreement with. I'm done, great job Mercedes and a nod to Todd for not letting it slip away. Keith
If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out
Bastian Ward
Unregistered
I Liked this poem very much. The child of the depression reminded me so much of my paternal grandmother whose house was chock a block full of everything, as she didn't throw anything out either due to the depression. I loved the imagery you invoked. Very well done.
just mercedes
Unregistered
(07-26-2016, 10:04 AM)Bastian Ward Wrote: I Liked this poem very much. The child of the depression reminded me so much of my paternal grandmother whose house was chock a block full of everything, as she didn't throw anything out either due to the depression. I loved the imagery you invoked. Very well done.
Thank you. I think the best thing poetry does is reconnect readers to themselves.
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(07-26-2016, 10:04 AM)Bastian Ward Wrote: I Liked this poem very much. The child of the depression reminded me so much of my paternal grandmother whose house was chock a block full of everything, as she didn't throw anything out either due to the depression. I loved the imagery you invoked. Very well done.
My grandmother did this too. When we had to move her after my grandfather passed, we found innumerable stacks of newspapers, used paper towels in bags, empty shampoo bottles -- so. many. things.
I digress.
The poem is wonderful and absolutely deserved the spotlight. Well done.
