Filed under: Poetry
April 27, 2010
To the Men Asleep Under the Dogwood, 1958
They do not rest, peaceful as fallen petals
backs pressed against hillocks of new grass
overcoats smelling of lawn onions, hooch,
the quarter for a bath they did not have.
They do not speak companionably, men
on an outing, chums, passing their stories.
They close their eyes against the limbs, the sky,
the landlady – her key, her lock, her rules.
She’s a minotaur tugging the curtain
with her hoof, her nightgown ripped by her horns.
Limbs catch on the insides of their eyelids;
the cross-hatch becomes the river Elbe
on a mortarman’s much-folded field map;
or slim brown legs tangled in sheets, not his;
or the cracks in the mirror’s silvering
as it hung above the bar where time ran out.
The men rise up from the earth, now specters
from tales told by my elderly neighbor.
Their failures cling to me like the fallen
petals I’ll find buried in my knotted hair
when I wake in the early morning hours,
asleep in my nightgown, feet bare, chilled,
the house key against my palm, my failures
forming shapes in the tangled weave of limbs.
There is a purpose for sleeplessness. The mind needs to be awake. “Life beckoned to the language and the language followed” – Eavan Boland
Michelle, this is beautiful. I read poetry and am in awe because a poet I am not. Yay, insomnia!
Thanks Sally! I wish I wrote more poetry. I used to have to churn them out right regularly and maybe I need to just make myself do that again. Sometimes it takes insomnia for inspiration.
You have not lost your touch, my darling daughter. Knowing from where you observe and speak, the volume is loud and very clear.
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You inspire me Michelle. Truly.
Next time I see you I plan on holding your hand, if for just a moment, so that I might absorb some of your talent and wisdom.
I loved the poem.
Tamara
I love it, Michelle! I can soo see you here. I’ve tried to write poems, but I’ve never been able to make them sound right. I usually end up with a whole story and the poem forgotten.
I envy your ability to create this visual.
Great job!
Tami
Awesome! I haven’t written poetry since I was in high school. This is lovely. Great visuals…and the ending felt so poignant.