Wishing Not To Recall
Revisiting our ancestral farmhouse
I feel this certain tinge of aloneness,
Which smudges the lively remembrances
About a big clan huddled together
Under narra trees, each Sunday…a frolic kindled
By Grandpa’s recycled stories about literature,
His passion for Cole Porter’s music,
And the grace of old jazzy temperament…
Oh, we would feast on homemade shrimp balls ,
Roasted calf, an array of fragrant tarts
While infants and elders jiggled
Under the chain-link glow of skyscape,
Where my childhood, teen-hood heart
Pulsed, was even fed with many a summers’ delight.
Then…in a dash, this rustic view quelled us—
It was a terror we called a slap of reality
An impertinent fire flattening our homestead,
Just like that, like that: How bitter this pastoral thieving
A madness of doom I need not wish to recall--
Except for a torn violin retrieved among cinders
Leaning now around my grownup arms:
I kneel beneath moonshine, singing myself to sleep.
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Remembering What You Want to Forget Contest
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues 10/7/2018
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