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Dale McLain
Advanced Member
Username: sparklingseas

Post Number: 1515
Registered: 11-2004
Posted on Thursday, November 03, 2005 - 6:30 am:   Edit Post Delete Post View Post/Check IP Print Post

We handle her easy now,
like those thin drinking glasses
from the dime store.
Nobody raises their voice anymore.
It’s all hush! and Tiptoe!
The blinds stay shut.
Sick headache, that’s what they say.

But I have seen her on the porch,
lips moving and I know that she is counting.
Once she told me how many stones
lined the long dirt drive,
the number so absurd, but I knew it was precise.
Before, when she went away, I would
slip into her closet and search for her
between the dresses hung like fragrant cocoons.
I remember how she shone
before she shed the pretty husk of reason.

I’m the oldest so it falls to me
to maintain a fire line around her,
keep the little ones busy and quiet.
I bring her things on silent feet,
sliced oranges and damp cloths.
I smell her lilac talc, hear her sighs.

When she hands me back her empty glass
I hold it like a jewel.
I have learned some things.
If this glass breaks it cuts me.
I count the steps back to the kitchen.
LJ Cohen
Moderator
Username: ljc

Post Number: 3243
Registered: 07-2002
Posted on Thursday, November 03, 2005 - 7:18 am:   Edit Post Delete Post View Post/Check IP Print Post

Oh, Dale, I can't tell you how much this piece moved me.

You have captured the specificity of this so beautifully with lines like:

Once she told me how many stones
lined the long dirt drive,
the number so absurd, but I knew it was precise.

and

I bring her things on silent feet,
sliced oranges and damp cloths.
I smell her lilac talc,

Yet, also the universal:

I’m the oldest so it falls to me
to maintain a fire line around her,

and

I have learned some things.
If this glass breaks it cuts me.
I count the steps back to the kitchen.

Bravo, Dale. This is a fine work. As Mr. B says, 'be pleased'.

best,
ljc

http://ljcbluemuse.blogspot.com/
Teresa White
Valued Member
Username: teresa_white

Post Number: 201
Registered: 01-2005
Posted on Thursday, November 03, 2005 - 10:21 am:   Edit Post Delete Post View Post/Check IP Print Post

Dale,

This is excellent writing --so many vivid images and it's packed with emotional content. I think my favorite line is "I remember how she shone
before she shed the pretty husk of reason." Wow, quite original.

Truly enjoyed,

Teresa
Lazarus
Valued Member
Username: lazarus

Post Number: 148
Registered: 10-2005
Posted on Thursday, November 03, 2005 - 11:27 am:   Edit Post Delete Post View Post/Check IP Print Post

I love the way this flows. It's sad to think this kind of love is very rare these days. Once you've "shed the husk of reason" nowadays, you can also loose everyone who would have ever cared about you.
Morgan Lafay
Intermediate Member
Username: morganlafay

Post Number: 748
Registered: 08-2005
Posted on Thursday, November 03, 2005 - 12:42 pm:   Edit Post Delete Post View Post/Check IP Print Post

It's just my own measure: if you feel it, it's poetry. And I felt this all the way to my heart.
So beautiful and real. And you, the tender care giver.

Just lovely.
Zephyr
Senior Member
Username: zephyr

Post Number: 3024
Registered: 07-2003
Posted on Thursday, November 03, 2005 - 3:10 pm:   Edit Post Delete Post View Post/Check IP Print Post

Dale, wonderful writing here, when she lost the pretty husk of reason.... and yet able to count every stone. Sounds like my elderly Mum whom I care for. I know those silent feet too.
~M~
Board Administrator
Username: mjm

Post Number: 5713
Registered: 11-1998
Posted on Thursday, November 03, 2005 - 6:49 pm:   Edit Post Delete Post View Post/Check IP Print Post

Excellent choice of perspective and voice, Dale. Told through the words and eyes of the eldest child, this takes on a poignancy that would be lost if it came from an outside narrator. The pain in this one is just like those thin drinking glasses. You feel as the reader, if you read too hard, everything will splinter. Great work!
Dale McLain
Advanced Member
Username: sparklingseas

Post Number: 1522
Registered: 11-2004
Posted on Friday, November 04, 2005 - 8:23 am:   Edit Post Delete Post View Post/Check IP Print Post

You know a beautiful, crazy mother is almost a birthright in the south. It seems almost too cliched to write about, so I hesitate to do so. In this case, I'm glad I did.
Lisa~ I am delighted that this poem was moving to you. Thank you so much.

Teresa~ Thank you very much for your kind words.

Lazarus~ Yes,I agree with you. I believe we'd hand over a perscription and go on our merry way these days. Thank you for reading.

Morgan~ I appreciate your thoughtful comments. Thank you very much.

Zephyr~ The role of the caregiver is a hard one, but it is a honor to give in that way, also. Thank you.

M~ Thank you... and not a whisper of the "p" word! Hooray!! Your comments brought a smile.

take care all~dale

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