in the creek with –.
And I took off
my shoes & shirt this time like you
told me & I stayed in
the rocky shallows – the cold
an open-handed slap, mum – and he charged
ahead, water in waves around him,
water in shiny coins that fell back
into the water: wishes for longer afternoons
of creeks & shallows & inky
tadpoles nudging at the split
cup of my fingers
(oh the poor boy!)wasted.
And then he came back
& we pushed each other down & splashed & I tore
his shirt a bit. He tromped away, mad,
& I had a leech between my toes & it was a tongue,
mum, rasping between my toes,
so I sat on the shore
& pulled it off.
And I laid back, watching
a robin building in a tree overhanging
the creek with the hanks of wool leftover
from spinning and the strands of hair from your brush
I set out in the yard this morning
& then I didn’t hear him. But I thought
he was just around the bend
or hiding in the reeds so I put my shoes on
& carefully – carefully, mum – buttoned
(oh his poor mother!)my shirt & waited.
And then I heard you calling out
the back door so I came, thinking he’d snuck
home & I was hungry & that man
who came in just now was crying, mum.
It was –‘s dad & he was crying & he popped
two of my buttons.
I’m sorry, mum. About – lying cold
and dead at the bottom of the creek. I didn’t know.
I didn’t. And the hole in my foot
where the bloody leech was aches.
But I’ve got the buttons here in my hand
and if you teach me how,
(oh my poor boy!)I’ll sew them back on.
* * *
My name is Ariel Gordon and this is my fifth year May-Day-ing. Polly Washburn and I started the site back in 2004 and I'm glad glad glad at how it's grown.
This year, after several years where it just wasn't possible, I'm going to try to write a poem a day.
I'll most likely write/post poems in two veins. The first will be what I call 'exercize' poems, based off the wikiHows (How to Seduce a Woman, How to Rip a Phonebook in Half, How to Connect with Your Father). They'll be one-offs, riff-raff, volunteers.
The second will be poems like this one, that will eventually find their way into my manuscript of poems about absent parents. Though much of this manuscript is intensely, frighteningly personal, there's also a section based on the relationship between inventor Thomas Alva Edison and his eldest daughter Marion Estelle Edison, also known as "Dot."
A bit about me: I'm a Winnipeg-based writer and editor. I've a couple of things being published this spring and my first book will be published next spring. (Fun!)
4 comments:
Hey A, a very wistful letter/account. I liked how it worked to show the boy's distraction, the way a kid would get wrapped up in the world around him. I think the third stanza works the best to convey the rapidness of the event happening around him.
That said, I don't know that the bracketed parts added much to the piece. I wonder if you couldn't build the pace of this poem by not giving any stanza breaks. Let the momentum build on its own??
nifty jumping off point. so to speak.
a technical question - how did you get those little indents, that was cool.
this made me think of a boy who drowned in a swimming pool when i was 6.
i liked that you blocked his name out albeit over 100 years ago.
voice was very good, but if it's edison i want clues of his future man. (no i won't say "the lightbulb moment")
i'll go looking for them on next read.
i have nothing really helpful or constructive atm, i'll come back after a good thunk. it was a powerful plunge into m'aider/mayday/May Day. Thank you Ariel.
Thanks, you two...
(Andie - the indents were the result of the block quotation function.)
Ariel,
Great series idea. I look forward to reading more. I agree with the comments so far. A strong voice. I think the mum is what does it for me. It really sets a tone.
Love the "tadpoles nudging at the split/cups of my fingers". Great image.
I agree with Tracy about the ( ). Not sure. Particularly the word wasted. I like the idea of the asides, but wonder if they might be something different content wise. Maybe remembrances or thoughts the boy has as he's telling this story. Hmmm...Like the !! Bring back the apostrophe, I say!
Like hank of wool and detail about hairbrush. Great use of the buttons. The understated "he popped two of my buttons".
Great close.
What a pleasure to read you over the years.
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