Marvelling in the Pink afternoon
Marvelling in the pink afternoon, pretending
to crochet a drawstring. I’ve done it before,
at least once before, followed the pattern. Closed
the purse. I can’t nearly begin
to learn that not all things are meant
to bring pleasure to me…they are oft’ meant
to gift, to love, to let go
of. Don’t
pull too hard…enclose a piece of your heart
on a little toy ship…let the paper sailboat
head toward the pond-swan. Even
mom’s precious teacups sunk
to the glass bottom, broke
in pieces. Her words stay,
meaningful & meaningless.
She meant us siblings to cheek-kiss.
Dad’s eyes see through the glass bottom -
either smiling bright or sad if we fight,
so we mustn’t fight. Marvelling
in the pink afternoon, pretending
to pour tea. Laying linen
on familial laps. Kind cubes
of sugar, kerplunk, splash
about with leafy-hugs. the drawstring closes
over promising memories. Marvelling
in the pink afternoon, letting go of…
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
