Collage

[heslopian]

When I was a boy we had a collage
of family photos inside a glass frame,
a sweeping portrait of childhood
and a unit which began like the seed
below the earth, growing with tentative
movements up through the soil
to drink in the sun. But we never survived
the winter, and the frame was removed
when my dad’s second wife
arrived like an orphan on the doorstep.
Where it is now I don’t know.
I can’t imagine that dad had the heart
to throw it out with the pizza boxes,
my brothers in their infancy, our mum
in her wedding veil, granddad holding
the eldest sibling, back when the former
still had hair, and the latter was a beardless lad.
I think of it locked away in the loft,
our home’s secret memory bank,
resting like a corpse among fibreglass fields.

[Ris Yerg]

Heart breaking work ...
R.Y.

[addy]

You took what could have been cliche, and made it elegant and earnest. Nice job.

[Jetz]

What an interesting write. Great images here.

I loved the 2nd wife line
"arrived like an orphan on the doorstep."

Having been a 2nd wife, I could certainly
identify with your feelings.

"I think of it locked away in the loft,
our home’s secret memory bank,
resting like a corpse among fibreglass fields. "

Fantastic ending.

Sue

[billy]

When I was a boy we had a collage
of family photos inside a glass frame,
a sweeping portrait of childhood
and a unit which began like the seed
below the earth, growing with tentative
movements up through the soil
to drink in the sun. But we never survived for me it should start a new verse at 'but we never'.
the winter, and the frame was removed
when my dad’s second wife
arrived like an orphan on the doorstep. good image in this and the line above
Where it is now I don’t know.
I can’t imagine that dad had the heart
to throw it out with the pizza boxes,
my brothers in their infancy, our mum
in her wedding veil, granddad holding
the eldest sibling, back when the former
still had hair, and the latter was a beardless lad.
I think of it locked away in the loft,
our home’s secret memory bank,
resting like a corpse among fibreglass fields.

an excellent write for me jack. i think you have some strong demarcations within the poem that would allow for it to be in verse form.
some of your narrative images are great. you are a true story teller. the last line is perfect.

thanks for the read

[heslopian]

Thanks everyone for all your kind words and feedback.