The way my dad taught me
to draw houses:
two sloping lines down
became the sides of a roof,
a triangle on the end - a gable.
A single
door. One window on each side
as if all things were equal.
We drew out
page on page
of bungalows; no room
in our imagination
for second stories, no attic
for our forgotten mirrors,
our invisible hats.
From him, I learned
that things in the distance
grow small. Some sides
will always remain
invisible.
The way my dad taught me
to draw people:
a series of interlocking
ovals; erase
the lines
inside.
3 comments:
I'm not sure why, but semicolons in a poem don't seem to belong somehow... I'd change the semicolon in stanza 3 to a period, the one in the last stanza to a comma. (Whether this is strictly correct or not, I don't know!)
But that's picky. I do like this. Makes me think of how much I learned about my family after I became an adult, things that complicated the story.
I'm ambivalent about "as if all things were equal." It feels a bit directive, but I'm not totally sure I'd leave it out either.
I wonder how this would work as a prose poem? I agree the semi-colon seems too…formal? Also considering the child-like drawing, too sophisticated. I like what the poem is getting at.
Can you engage other sense besides visual? What did you use to draw with? a few other details may help.
I remember discussing semicolons at Sage Hill and saying how effective they could be, but they are less typical.
What do you think I'm saying about my family here? Because I'm not even sure! It feels like it's on the edge of revealing something, but I need a few more hints. ;)
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