Goldie

In the summer time

The grass is high and dusty

And the corn is green and tall.

Trees swim in the lake.

The crisp green scent of tomatoes

The wet scent of earth

The mewling of the newborn kittens

As I skip through the garden passage

To the house

With the large porch and the rose bush.

 

There she is eternal

Waiting in the large recliner

Soft paper skin

Cotton candy hair.

I sit near her and hug her.

We always visit in summer time.

 

In the winter time

The grass is brittle and black

Puddles of ice stand in scarred bare cornfields.

The drowned trees claw with skeletal fingers to gray impassive skies.

The cold stings

Pierces my head

Makes it swim and ache.

The cancer-ridden kittens are all dead

Found floating in the water buckets.

 

And she was there eternal

In the too-perfumed room

Too close and too hot

To ward off the cold from outside.

But, this chill would not go away.

 

I could not go in the winter time.

I could not see you that last time

With your eyes closed

With your hands resting on your frail chest.

You could not see me

Nearly a grown woman

No longer the child that ran to sit on your lap.

 

A child can cry

A grown woman can not

And I was grown.

Author's Note

My poetry is not so refined as that of Yos, My Fair Lady, or Dinesh. Please give me tips on how to improve.

Reviews

[InkSlinger]

Blown away.. super emotional feelings to this piece of writing. I am not sure what moves me the most about this piece, to hard realities of death, or the soft recollection of richer times. You stabbed at the heart of with this one.. Beautifully conveyed, and crafted.

[KATHY SUE SILLS]

Well written and brilliantly expressed!

[Michael X]

Wow, some poems should be read with respect, this poem is amazing, the analogy of life, love and longing is haunting, i loved it.

[raining]

no, i think it is you, it is authentic and gives the reader a very good view and you need to just trust your ability.

all of us on writers cafe are here to learn and grow, welcome to the club.

[Dinesh Sairam]

Well, I always go by William Carlos' rule. He said that there's a universal quality to every thought, sight and hearing. If you can capture that sense even for a moment, I'm sure you can write poems spontaneously.

Regarding this poem, it reminds me of classic Japanese poetry. Nothing blemished as I see. You really don't need to refine it or anything.

PS. Thanks for the compliment. Keep writing.

[Cynthia]

I think it's a great poem? Give some trust to your poems, it is good!
:)

[Patient Poet (Yos)]

Thank you for the compliment , but we all are the same, we only express our thoughts through words, there is no good or bad , sometimes its better and sometimes less but always , it’s Yours. Your poetry is beautiful as your other writing and your soul my dear friend.

I love this, you kept this mystery, made me think on how the seasons of the years affect our soul ... and they lovely written end, sad but with so much tender longing, is that how you wanted to see her leaving?

[My Fair Lady]

Lovely tribute to matriarchial "grandmother". I'm guessing here. I love the way you seperate summer as so wonderful a time to visit. Seasons in the eyes of a child are always so vibrant. I like the phrasing of too-perfumed room, and cotton candy hair.

I am certainly not a refined poet, and don't deserve the flattery of being in the same "room" as romantic poet Yos, or classic poet Dinesh. However, I will make a suggestion- The first thing I would consider is removing as many "the" words as possible and see how you like it then.

The crisp green scent of tomatoes
The wet scent of earth
The mewling of the newborn kittens

Would look like:

Crisp green scent of tomatoes
Wet scent of earth
Mewling of newborn kittens

It still paints the picture, but takes away some of the jumble of the tongue. Remember that poetry is a reflection of you, and your thoughts. Don't change anything if it doesn't feel right to you.