Debris
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By agnosticnun
- 3629 reads
I am not ready for this to end --
Clearing your house of memories.
These things I found: seven shoe trees
Christmas ornaments, a hymn book
Also tarot cards, a guide
On converting to Islam (you did not) and a rosary.
Two daggers (daggers!), the records
For a business I do not recall
And my brother's toys (not mine).
And now I can never ask the important things
Like how to change the oil in the lamp
Or why you never took to my husband
Or what you were really doing that time in Amman.
The dishes we ate from are gone, the iron pan,
The steak you seared is ash.
And I could keep this glass
But it is not your wineglass now.
And I do not want wine--
Just to drink with you once more.
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Comments
This took me right back to
This took me right back to the 'clearing out' after my own parents' deaths, and you capture those feelings so well. The line 'but it is not your wineglass now' summed it all up for me, and your title is completely right.
I was talking with a friend recently whose mother died while my friend herself was in hospital after a stroke. My friend was completely lost to the world for a year, so all the 'clearing out' was done by others. She never got the chance to reflect, everything was gone by the time she recovered. It has profoundly affected her relationship with the event of her mother's death.
Great response to the IP.
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You've caught the feelings of
You've caught the feelings of such a task well. When my mother died suddenly, I had a young child (we found a soft lamb in a bag ready for his first birthday the following week!). And as we lived quite far away, I had to quite hurredly decide on some things to keep and leave the rest for my sister to sort out. I know we shared the old photos, I think I took those of our youth, and she took the older ones of Mum's youth, or something like that. I felt obliged to sort out mine for her to have some, but I don't think she ever got around to sorting out hers! But she is doing some interesting family history research.
I think my husband was concerned we got clogged up with sentimental things, as he had witnessed someone else doing so. There is always the surprise at what we didn't ask about.
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Lovely poem, Kristi. Very
Lovely poem, Kristi. Very poignant. Liked it a lot.
Luigi X
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This beautiful poem is our
This beautiful poem is our Facebook and Twitter Pick of the Day! Please do share/retweet if you enjoy it too.
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Beautiful poem. :)
Beautiful poem. :)
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That was great, so intriguing
That was great, so intriguing, I felt all the mysteries you found, the questions hanging like smoke. I liked your conversational style very much, too, and how you repeated daggers, and the poem's completion being not about things at all. Brilliant. I am so sorry for your loss, remember you writing about your father, the objects you write of here make me think he must have had a life rich in experiences and interests
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Lovely poem
Sad, heartfelt, and conveying the sense of loss without lapsing into sentimentality.
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I'm so sorry for your loss
I'm so sorry for your loss Kirsti - but thank you for this beautiful piece - I can see why it has the golden cherries on top. You've stirred some poignant memories for all of us with this one
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This is our Poem of the Week
This is our Poem of the Week - Congratulations!
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This is our Poem of the Month
This is our Poem of the Month - Congratulations!
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Your list - sort of feels
Your list - sort of feels like The Twelve Days of Christmas and 'extra'
Practical and mystical - a life lived
What a father!
And (don't forget yourself) What a daughter!
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This is my kind of poem and I
This is my kind of poem and I have written a couple in a similar vein. Haunting and beautiful with an underlying sadness wanting to hold on to memories. Loved it. Paul
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This
is not where I want to be, yet know, I will.
Salute
Lena x
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