a little laughter...but also grief (again) {poetry thursday}
Reading the posts of Poetry Thursday participants last week...well...my heart felt so full. The community, the sharing, the discussion, the words, the poems, the introductions to favorite poets...all of this. Yes. Thank you. I am doing a little happy dance as I think about how much this project has grown in the last few months. A happy dance.
This week, I am sharing the poem I was working on last week. (It is still a bit in progress, and I welcome gentle suggestions via email if any spring to mind.)
A vacation interrupted
Last Tuesday,
with the temperature at 92 degrees,
I began to stick to myself.
Thoughts of rainbow sherbet,
icy raspberry, orange, and lime,
sent me on a holiday from
the hell of the living room.
As I snuck away,
I did not anticipate a memory
ripping off the bandage
I use to hold my heart together,
when at noon the next day,
I lifted the plastic lid, inhaled,
and traveled to the humidity
of another kitchen.
A teaspoon scooping
rainbow sherbert, she watched
as I pressed two scoops
into the little pink bowl with
scalloped edges, then she said,
“Are you going to eat all that?”
Later, after a commercial
break, with Gramps and I
sucked into a story about
teenage mothers on 20/20,
she would sneak to the kitchen
for seconds. The suction
of the shutting freezer door
became the invitation
to echo her words.
Lacking manners and
sneaking up from behind,
the eager claws of grief
clutched at my center
when her laughter
rang out inside my head.
Untangling, I opened
the cupboard, reached for
a small purple glass,
took out a teaspoon
from the drawer, and
began to scoop up
the ribbons of color,
pressing each spoonful
closer together.
*********
Inspired by The Writer's Almanac link I posted last week, my husband has invited me to share a new evening ritual with him. We sit together on the couch and listen to Garrison Keillor's daily post. A nightly date with my husband and poetry. What more could a girl want really?
on grieving (and healing), poetry
Reader Comments (18)
A memory and it transports you to a warp in time.
amazingly portrayed through your words...
loved it Liz! :) write more...
sending a big hug ((squeeze))
dar xo
I don't think i could offer any suggestions for this poem, love, as to me it is perfect. the unravelling of a memory, the smallest details, the way grief lacks manners (this is so good) and will infuse with the everyday things we do. Liz, this is wonderful. you have a natural gift for poetry and most of all for expressing not only your feelings and emotions, but those of us all too.
ps. now i want to read your book :-) x
Straight from your heart, directly to ours. Bullseye.
I did not anticipate a memory
ripping off the bandage
I use to hold my heart together,
I love these lines in particular. How cruel and physically painful these memories can be. How they snuck up on us unannounced and without invitation!
Don't change a word :)
the last lines left me savouring their sweetness...as if I was going to enjoy the next bite ofthose pushed together.
I really like the flow of this poem-the way your memory builds and how grief seems related to heat and humidity-both can make me feel so uncomfortable.
You are a treasure dear friend...a real treasure
Love to you
Oh, I love the part about how grief lacks manners and sneaks up from behind. Man, that is SO true.
It's a lovely poem, Liz.
A beautiful poem - I love the ribbons of color, the sound of the freezer door, some really universal images here. Lovely!
So much here is about opening up what has been sealed: the bandage, the lid, the cupboard. And what is opened is all about ribboned colors, cool relief, and life. Really smart, memorable.
What?! Did my mom pop up in your kitchen as you were getting your sorbet? Wow! How did she do that?? Her Nimbus 2000 really is a powerful tool. I better invest in one!
:-)
so beautiful miss liz. so beautiful.
A nightly date with your husband, that is so romantic.
really wonderful poem, liz. they keep getting better.
Really powerful poem liz. I loved it just the way it is, from the heart.
"the eager claws of grief clutched at my center" Yes, that's just how it is.
So you know I love the claws of grief, and you know I love the ending.
You've done a wonderful job with this poem, handling a tough topic so well, making an abstract concept (grief) so real.
mmmm...love this darling.
and you know what? it made me crave sherbert badly!
well done. beautiful.
heading to canada for a week...lets reconnect when i get back. have missed you.
xoxox,
boho
so powerful - and moving - and hungry-making. Darnit. they don't do sherbert here... xoxo
This is so beautiful. I love the simplicity of the sherbert connecting to grief. Great images.
wow.
its amazing how
quickly
and unsuspectingly
we can be transported.
beautiful poem
on many levels.
:)