Thursday, May 08, 2014

Making sheep



Na so, Oma smiles. Her swollen
knuckles enfold an apple, and she
peels the skin, red
and ready. Her twisted fingers
slice the fruit toward her belly,
bleeding juices on her dress.
She lays down spotless
shearlings, Schaefchen –
baby sheep she calls them,
and they follow one after
another, silent
and sound, herding
worrisome thoughts,
sweetening rumination.

(This is an oldie, but I'd love opinions on whether it has enough poetic weight for inclusion in a collection about my grandparents, or whether it's just a sweet personal memory.)

3 comments:

Melanie Dennis Unrau said...

Hi Angeline.

I think it's more than a personal memory because it's full of powerful images and metaphors—the shearlings, the swollen and twisted fingers, the blood, the herding of thoughts. It's inviting and warm, not like listening in on an inside story.

andie said...

Yup I agree. It could be longer, sure, because it's a lovely little vignette. But if that's all there is, that's all there is.

Joanne Epp said...

It's a picture. I think it could be part of a collection about your grandparents. And it does have more than sweetness in it, as Melanie points out.

My only quibble is with the wording of the first line: you can say something with a smile, but you can't smile words. You could just replace that comma with a period, if you want the smile to stay, or you could re-word the line something like: "Na so. Oma's swollen knuckles enfold and apple..."