Oh, the memories ... how they come flooding back during quiet moments ... away from the keyboard ... no TV blaring in the background.
Today's poem deals ... seemingly ... with a single memory ... a single day ... a single set of circumstances ... and, when I wrote it, I was thinking about a specific day which stood out in memory.
Looking at it now, I think it's more than that. It must be. There were many times that I looked wistfully toward the crest of that hill, wondered what lay beyond ... wanted to find out ... wondered if I ever would.
Well, eventually I did. Oh, did I ever!
But now I seem to be rooted more firmly than ever in those beginnings ... dealing with those bittersweet memories ... finding that the emphasis is more on the second portion of "bittersweet" than on the first.
The poem:
HANDFUL OF DUST
I stood watching a breeze
moving toward me through
hazy green rows of corn,
listened to it overhead
whispering its secrets
to a wafer-dry box elder,
whispering its secrets
to a wafer-dry box elder,
saw it picking up just
a handful of dust,
twirling it, letting it
a handful of dust,
twirling it, letting it
settle quickly back
to the hoof-pocked soil,
remember thinking
to the hoof-pocked soil,
remember thinking
that I might follow,
off somewhere beyond
those barren hills,
off somewhere beyond
those barren hills,
but stood drinking
from a rusty tin cup,
dribbled the dregs
from a rusty tin cup,
dribbled the dregs
on my thirsting toes,
went padding back
where I’d always be.
© 2002
went padding back
where I’d always be.
© 2002
(originally published in Capper's; now part of a manuscript in search of a publisher)
Today's word: twirling
3 comments:
Just catching up now :) I like the colors of your new site. Orange is such a lovely cheering color. I'm glad you found a nice, new site for your blog.
The photograph is perfect for the poem...both would be perfect without the other, though. This is another profound poem...and almost all of us have left "back home" behind to a degree. I didn't wonder as your poem states. I just jumped into the world outside. Some are still there where they'll always be...and both are OK.
Oh, thank you, thank you, Anonymous. I'm still catching up, too. Glad you like the colors ... the photograph ... and the poem. Best wishes.
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