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Tuesday, April 29, 2008

If you could open a door to anywhere. . .

Yesterday I was prompted by a postcard I bought that asked: If you could open a door to anywhere, where would you go? to think about such a reality. Usually I want to 'find myself' or grow tomatoes in Calabria--esoteric pursuits. Today I just wanted to go home and see my Grandma Wells.

Lifting the canvas I slip under the tent
And escape the refugee camp.
Like a fighter I leave the ring
But not on a stretcher.

By heart I follow the ruts to your house
And throw the pebbles I’ve collected
At your front window.
Youth only carries time.

Crossing the ditch flow to the gate
Grass stained and buoyant,
My feet come up short.
Will you remember me?

Past the gas pump under the alley light
Washtub hangs on a nail.
Shadows pasted to the upstairs windows
Like paper snowflakes.

Recollections, mortal and sublime,
Dusty with longing.
I loosen the laces, untying my gloves,
Afraid to enter, afraid to return.
You’ve been gone so long.

6 comments:

Marianne said...

ok... now I'm weeping. that was so beautiful, I also long for my grandmother.

Granny Smith said...

The heartbreak of recollection and longing. This poem does it so beautifully, without sentimentality, under-stated and therefore intense.

Great post, Noni.
XXXX

Inland Empire Girl said...

Wonderful poem!

bleeding espresso said...

Beautiful. I've been missing my grandmother lately too.

Beatriz' suitcase contents said...

Beautiful.

Julie said...

You are a genuinely talented poet, Noni.