Sunday, September 6, 2009

The Corner

Green & Jones


There he was,
pushing the stroller
of a crying child.

He wore such hatred,
a thick knit wool hatred
that made them both
wince and itch.

It was not fleeting,
based upon struggle,
or minor feud.

It began that way,
a starched and pinched pleat
that would never soften.

Father and child,
on their march to God knows where.
I could not look away.

11 comments:

  1. i like that image - itchy hate wool. nice.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Those clouds... such a bright blue sky. So good.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I'm still absorbing the words, and I do love the photograph you chose... I can relate to the frustration of a parent when you have a screaming kid that just won't be soothed; it makes me a little sad, though, that we're talking about "A starched and pinched pleat that would never soften." But lovely post, regardless of where it takes e emotionally.
    -maria

    ReplyDelete
  4. Maria- Thank you for sharing your thoughts. The Corner describes what an observer felt during a brief moment in time. Although it is possible that the situation was truly as sad as described, it is also plausible that what was felt by the observer during that brief moment had no resemblance to the actual relationship. Things are not always as they seem.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Good point... but I do end up in the same place, nonetheless... I think that because I had a colicky baby, that image takes me to a place of sadness - or perhaps it's just unease..?

    I think of the many times that it must have been me with that pinched pleat, and so many observers who may have thought that it was an irreversible one, you know? Or that it was even hatred... That also makes me a little sad. I don't think that's a bad thing, though. I think the fact that the poem is eliciting such an emotional response in me is a testament to how well-written it is. And I realize this is just one response - not the meaning of the poem, necessarily.

    -maria

    ReplyDelete
  6. Discovered you, Denise, on a recipe site about lemon cucumbers. Your poem is chilling. I can almost see that father and child. I want to find that father's soul and bring it back to life. I want to shelter than child until dad can love again.

    ReplyDelete
  7. ARTFULEYE-

    I do love my lemon cucumbers!

    I know what you mean about the finding the father's soul and sheltering the child.

    If only life was always a bowl of lemon cucumbers...

    ReplyDelete
  8. Denise, I used to live in Sonoma County - Point Reyes was a favorite day trip for us.

    I made tzatziki and also marinated some of the lemon cucumbers...dinner is 50% done!

    ReplyDelete
  9. ARTFUL EYE- Sonoma and West Marin are two beautiful counties. I adore them both. Enjoy those lovely little cucumbers.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Dene,
    browsing through some of your old postings... came across this lovely poem.. it is filled with heartfelt meaning when one takes time to absorb it !
    great job as are most endeavors you dive into..
    melva

    ReplyDelete