Monday, 11 May 2009

Curtains

My mother fainted
into our hearth one morning.
She covered up her pain
but I called in from school
at lunch to check she seemed
OK and fried myself two eggs.

Yesterday my sons attacked pasta
and daytime, little by little, dropped.
We talked and ate spaghetti, draped
it over forks. Hanging together
unites a family. After a plateful,
a net of connection fluttered a sparkle.

Nowadays
eating pulls me to myself,
makes me seem to need
to sleep, close up,
to droop, draw in,
stop light.

Parents eventually do drop, but my young family
celebrated the final wink of a sun
and stars raised - their bellies and mischievous eyes,
before curtain call, never still.

23 comments:

  1. Beautifully conceived and executed. Thank you.

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  2. What a beautiful poem. I feel nourished but not heavy :)

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  4. like!
    visit my blog http://transcotidianas.blogspot.com/
    will be a pleasure to read your comments about my visual poems.
    Sinval

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  5. Such beautifully crafted poem :) Thank you for sharing!

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  6. mind is always the builder, words create, every spoken word creates a plethora of new worlds, great visionary.

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  7. wonderfully done. Thanks for sharing!

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  8. Your poems heal. Beautiful, again

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  9. spaghetti was always saturday afternoons in my family, after dodge ball....http://publishitorbust.blogspot.com/ I write alot of poetry too.

    Where is fancy bred? In the hearth or in the head?

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  10. It looks like this was the starting point of your blog, at least in this form. Meant to say 'Happy Birthday' to your blog, but never did. So this is belated good wishes to you and your family, and thank you for sharing your poems. This poem is a mix, as so many are, appreciated each time it comes round.

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  11. This is lovely! Nurturing and nourishing. Fulfilling and filling me up with family.

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  12. A poem with a natural rhythm, a touch of nostalgia and no uncertain charm, John. A very likeable.

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  13. Inspires me to attack my poems a little differently. :-)

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  14. Living alone now, in another country, 64 years old, I still remember our joyous family mealtimes... brothers and foster-brothers and sisters, parents, grandparents, all of us together at our long, chaotic table.

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  15. Wow. You have a unique ability to move with your words. I'm so glad I found you.

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  16. It portrays very dramatic scene, just gives a feeling as if it happens before my eyes. Narration so lively

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  17. I love the circle of life. Loved ones go and other loved ones arrive. All linked by the memory and the act of eating toghether, a very important moment for a loving family.

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  18. A picture paints better than a thousand words; a poem an infinity of images.
    Thanks.

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  19. Charming...and you made me hungry for pasta! ~jackie~

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